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THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY, 


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PREACHED  IN  THE  PARISH  CHURCH 


HIGH  WYCOMBE, 


BUCKS. 


^      ^ 


REV.  CHARLES  BRADLEY, 

Curate  of  High  Wycombe. 


^       " 


FIRST  Americas,  from  the  ForRTH  London  edition, 


Philadelphia 


PUBLISHED  BY  WILLI  AIM  W.  WOODWAEB, 


No.  52,  South  Seconb  Street. 


i82g. 


iv  •  .        Dft)icATION'. 

Scriptures,  and  in  facilitating  the  public  worship  of  the 
Almighty,  are  sufficient  indications  that  the  value  of 
these  principles  is  well  known  to  your  Lordship;  and 
I  feel  assured  that  1  cannot  offer  you  a  more  acceptable 
tribute  of  the  gratitude  I  owe  you,  than  by  earnestly 
praying  that  the  influence  of  these  sacred  truths  may 
daily  become  more  powerful  in  your  breast,  and  their 
blessedness  more  richly  enjoyed  in  your  heart.  They 
can  do  more,  my  Lord,  than  render  you  a  benefactor 
to  the  church,  an  ornament  to  your  country,  and  a 
blessing  to  the  world.  They  can  make  you  the  servant 
and  the  friend  of  God  ;  the  citizen  of  a  kingdom  which 
cannot  be  moved ;  and  the  heir  of  a  glory  which  fadeth 
not  away. 

I  have  the  huiiour  to  remain,  my  Lord, 
Your  Lordship's  very  much  obliged 
and  most  obedient  Servant, 

CHAKLE^S  BKIDLEY. 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  Sermons  were  not  originally  designed  for  publication, 
They  were  prepared  for  the  pulpit  under  circumstances  by  no  means 
favourable  to  the  exercise  of  thought  or  much  attention  to  correctness 
of  language,  and  were  sent  to  the  press  without  that  careful  revision, 
which  the  Author  wished  to  have  given  them.  He  must  content  himself 
therefore  with  expressing  his  regret  at  the  defects,  which  he  finds  it 
impossible  to  supply ;  and  must  offer  the  pressure  of  daily  employments 
as  an  apology  for  the  blemishes,  which  he  is  unable  to  remove. 

It  is  obvious  that  much  originality  of  sentiment  or  of  language  must 
hot  be  expected  in  a  volume,  which  owes  its  appearance  solely  to  the 
kindness  of  friends.  This  remark  however  is  not  offered  as  an  excuse 
for  frequent  plagiarism.  Except  in  the  third  Sermon,  a  few  thoughts 
in  which  were  suggested  by  a  work  printed  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  Author  is  not  conscious  of  having  been  materially  indebted  to  any 
"writer ;  and  trusts  that  these  Sermons  will  not  be  found  less  original 
than  many  of  those,  which  are  prepared  for  the  pulpit  or  the  press. 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON  I.— Revelation  vii.  14,  15.  page- 

The  Worshippers  in  the  Heavenly  Temple  -  -  -        9 

SERMON  II.— Revelation  vii.  15,  16,  17. 
The  Worship  and  Privileges  of  the  Heavenly  Temple  -  25 

SERMON  III.— Psalm  xxxi.  5. 
The  Dying  Christian  Committing  his  Soul  to  God  -  -42 

SERMON  IV.— St  Luke  xxii.  19. 
The  Advantages  of  Remembering  Chi-ist         -  -  -  54 

SERMON  v.— St.  John  xiv.  27. 
The  Legacy  of  Christ  _.----      67 

SERMON  VI.— St.  Mark  xvi.  7. 
The  News  of  Christ's  Resurrection  sent  to  Peter        -  -  81 

SERMON  VII.— Ephesians  iii.  8. 
The  Humility  of  Saint  Paul  -  -  -  -      97 

SERMON  VIII.— Hebrews  iv.  15. 
The  Compassion  of  the  High-Priest  of  the  Church         -        -  113 

SERMON  IX.— Hebrews  iv.  16. 
The  Throne  of  Grace  -  -  -  -  -  -     128 

SERMON  X. — Deuteronomy  xxxiv.  5. 
The  Death  of  Moses         -  -  -  -       ,     -  -  141 

SERMON  XL— Deuteronomy  xxxii.  10,  11,  12. 
The  Goodness  of  God  to  Israel        -  -  -  -  -     153 

SERMON  XII.— Numbers  x.  29. 
The  Christian  journeying  to  the  Promised  Land  -  -  168 

SERMON  XIII.— Psalm  cxix.  54. 
The  Christian's  Song  in  his  Pilgrimage  -  -  -        -    185 

SERMON  XIV.— Psalm  xxxix.  5. 
The  Brevity  and  Vanity  of  Human  Life  .  .  _  200 

SERMON  XV.— 2  Corinthians  iii.  7,  8,  9,  10,  11. 
The  Glory  of  the  Gospel 219 

SERMON  XVI.— 2  Corinthians  v.  14, 15. 
The  Constraining  Influence  of  the  Love  of  Christ        -  -  238 

SERMON  XVII.— St.  Luke  iv.  IS. 
Christ  the  Healer  of  the  Broken-Hearted  -  -  -    262 

SERMON  XVIII.— St.  John  xi.  35. 
The  Tears  of  Jesus  at  the  Grave  of  Lazarus       -  _        ^         284 

SERMON  XIX.— Psalm  xc.  1,  2, 
God  the  Eternal  Dweliing-Place  of  his  Servants  -  r    297 


CONTENTS.  Vlll 

SERMON  XX.~2  Samuel  xvi.  13.  page. 

The  Forbearance  of  David  towards  Shiniei        -          -  -          315 

SERMON  XXL— 2  Samuel  xvi.  11, 12. 

The  Grounds  of  David's  Forbearance  to^vards  Shimei  -          -    331 

SEUMON  XXII.— Revelation  ii.  17. 
The  Rewards  of  the  Conquering  Chribtian        -  -  -  345 

SERMON  XXIII— Jeremiah  1.  4,  5. 
The  Israelites  Returning  fiom  Babylon        .  -  -  -    36O 

SE.iMON  XXIV.— Jeremiah  1.  5. 
The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining  himself  in  a  Covenant  with  God        o77 

SERMON  XXV.—Isaiah  xxxv.  8,  9,  10. 
TheWaytoZion        -         -  •-  -  -  -  -    394 

SERMON  XXVL-Isaiah  xxxv.  10. 
The  Heavenly  Zion         .-_---         408 

SERMON  XXVII.— Romans  ii.  4. 
The  Patience  of  God  -  -  -  -  -  -    420 

SERMON  XXVIII.— St.  Matthew  xxvii.  3,4,  5. 
The  Repentance  of  Judas  _  _  -  -  -  434, 

SERMON  XXIX.— St.  Luke  xxii.  60,  61,  62. 
The  Repentance  of  Peter        ------    447 

SERMON  XXX.— Exodus  ix.  27,  28, 
The  Confession  of  Pharaoh         -----  459 

SERMON  XXXI.— Leviticus  xvi.  21,  22. 
The  Scape-Goat  a  Type  of  Christ  -  _  -  -    474 

SERMON  XXXII.-St.  John  xix.  41,  42. 
The  Burial  of  Christ        ------  488 

SERMON  XXXIIL— Isaiah  xliii.  1,  2,  3. 
The  Exhortation  and  Promises  of  God  to  the  Afflicted        -         -    501 

SERMON  XXXIV.— Deuteronomy  viii.2. 
The  Advantages  of  a  Frequent  Retrospect  of  Life        -         -  516 

SERMON  XXXV.— St.  Matthew  xiv.  30,  31. 
The  Fear  of  Peter  when  Walking  on  the  Sea        _  _  .    535 

SERMON  XXXVI.— 1  Thkssalonians  i.  10. 
The  Christian  waiting  for  his  Deliverer  .  -  -  545 

SERMON  XXXVII— Psalm  cxxxix.  23,  24. 
The  Prayer  of  David  for  Self-knowledge  -  .  .    550 

SERMON  XXXVIII.— St.  Matthew  xxii.  11,  12,  13. 
The  Wedding  Garment  -----  574 

SERMON  XXXIX.— Romans  v.  17. 
The  Christian  Reigning  in  Life  oS"?- 


SERMOI^  I. 

— '^—00000000   ^^>^§jgffrxT  fx?r 
THE  WORSHIPPERS  IN  THE  iSiVMLY 
TEMPLE. 


REVELATION  vU.   14,   15. 

These  are  they,  which  c<nne  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed 
their  robes,  and  made  them  ivhite  in  the  blood  of  the  Lainb.  There- 
fore are  they  before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and  night 
in  his  temple. 

J.  HE  figure,  under  which  heaven  is  represented  to 
our  view  in  this  vision,  is  that  of  a  temple,  crowded  with 
worshippers,  and  resounding  with  praises.  The  man, 
who  loves  the  tabernacles  of  the  Lord  as  the  saints  of 
old  loved  them,  will  view  this  representation  of  his  fu- 
ture residence  with  peculiar  interest.  There  are  indeed 
seasons  in  the  life  of  the  established  Christian,  in  which 
the  prospect  of  this  heavenly  temple  brings  to  his  heart 
a  peace  and  a  blessedness,  which  pass  all  understanding. 
While  his  soul  in  the  secrecy  of  retirement  is  rising  on 
the  wings  of  faith  to  the  footstool  of  its  God,  the  veil, 
which  conceals  eternity  from  his  sight,  seems  to  be 
drawn  aside,  and  heaven,  with  all  its  glories,  opens  to 
his  view.  He  beholds  the  splendour  of  the  heavenly 
house,  he  hears  the  songs  of  its  redeemed  inhabitants, 
and  deems  himself  already  a  partaker  in  their  joy. 

Would  we,  my  brethren,  enter  into  the  Christian's 
secret,  and  share  his  honours  and  his  happiness?  Our 
affections  must  first  be  fixed  where  his  are  fixed,  on 
things  above.  We  must  have  a  treasure  in  eternity, 
and  our  conversation  must  be  in  heaven.    Let  us  then, 

this  very  hour,  strive  to  elevate  our  minds  to  the  dwell- 

B 


10  The  Worshippers  in 

ing.placc  of  God.  While  seated  in  this  earthly  hoube  of 
prayer,  let  us  lift  up  our  thoughts  to  that  glorious  tem- 
ple above  us,  in  which  all  the  triumphant  church  are  at 
this  very  moment  assembled  and  pouring  forth  their 
praises.  There  dwells  the  Saviour,  who  is  all  our  salva- 
tion and  all  our  desire  ;  there  live  the  Christian  friends, 
who  were  once  dear  to  our  souls  on  earth  ;  and  there,  if 
we  are  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord,  when  the  days  of  our 
tribulation  are  ended,  will  be  our  own  eternal  home.  O 
may  we  all  one  day  enter  that  house  of  rest !  May  we  all 
love  to  fix  our  thoughts  on  it  now,  and  contemplate  its 
blessedness !  May  we  often  experience,  within  these 
walls,  a  foretaste  of  its  joys  ! 

The  representation,  which  the  beloved  disciple  has 
here  given  us  of  the  happiness  of  the  heavenly  world, 
suggests  these  four  subjects  for  our  consideration  ; — a 
temple,  the  worshippers  in  this  temple,  the  nature  of 
their  worship,  and  the  privileges  they  enjoy.  We  shall 
however  find  sufiicient  matter  for  our  present  medita- 
tion, if  we  confine  our  attention  to  the  two  former  of 
these  subjects. 

I.  Let  us  consider,  first,  the  temple  here  spoken  of. 
It  is  a  heavenly  temple,  a  holy  place,  not  standing  on 
this  perishable  world,  but  having  its  foundations  laid  on 
the  everlasting  hills  of  heaven.  All  other  temples  have 
been  erected  by  man,  but  this  temple  has  been  built  by 
Jehovah  himself,  to  be  the  eternal  dwelling-place  of  his 
beloved  church,  and  the  seat  of  his  own  glorious  throne. 
He  dwelt  indeed  figuratively  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem, 
and  had  the  chambers  of  his  priests  surrounding  him  on 
every  side ;  but  he  dwells  visibly  in  this  heavenly  house, 
and  is  gradually  collecting  within  its  Malls  all  the  count- 
less myriads  of  his  saints,  and  will  make  tiiem  forever 
ministering  and  rejoicing  priests  around  his  throne. 


the  Heavenly  Temple.  1  i 

Where  this  temple  is,  we  know  not.  We  are  indeed 
taught  to  consider  heaven  as  a  state,  rather  than  as  a 
place ;  but  we  have  reason  to  conclude,  from  several 
passages  of  Scripture,  that  there  is  some  portion  of  the 
universe  set  apart  to  be  the  palace  of  its  great  King; 
that  there  is  within  the  boundaries  of  the  creation  some 
glorious  world,  where  Jesus  in  his  human  form  now 
lives  and  reigns,  and  where  he  will  eventually  assemble, 
with  the  innumerable  compan}'-  of  angels,  all  the  sinners 
of  mankind,  whom  his  blood  has  purchased. 

All  that  we  know  of  this  world  is,  that  it  really  exists, 
and  that  it  is  a  world  of  purit}'  and  peace.  Our  Bibles  in- 
deed tell  us  something  of  its  glories,  and  more  than  our 
limited  capacities  can  fully  comprehend ;  but  still  the 
most  glowing  descriptions  that  language  can  convey, 
and  the  most  exalted  conceptions  to  which  our  imagi- 
nations can  reach,  fall  infinitely  short  of  that  dazzling 
splendour  which  fills  the  courts  of  the  living  God.  The 
world  which  we  inhabit,  though  defiled  by  sin  and  un- 
der the  curse  of  God,  has  yet  so  much  order,  beauty, 
and  magnificence  in  it,  that  we  are  often  delighted  and 
astonished  as  we  contemplate  its  scenes.  What  then 
must  be  the  glory  of  that  world,  which  has  never  felt 
the  polluting  touch  of  sin,  which  was  prepared  before 
the  foundations  of  the  earth  were  laid  for  the  thrones 
of  the  redeemed,  and  adorned  with  a  full  display  of  the 
Almighty's  unclouded  brightness?  Happy  are  they, 
who  dwell  in  such  a  temple  !  Blessed  is  the  man,  who 
is  but  a  door-keeper  in  such  a  house  ! 

II.  The  happy  beings,  who  are  the  worshippers  in 
this  splendid  temple,  are  described  in  the  passage  con- 
nected with  the  text,  and  our  second  subject  of  consi- 
deration leads  us  to  turn  our  attention  to  them. 

Who  then  are  these    rejoicing   worshippers,  and 


^ 


IS  The  Worshippers  in 

whence  came  they  ?  Many  of  them  are  natives  of  this 
heavenly  world,  and  have  been  for  countless  ages  mi- 
nistering servants  in  this  house.  These  are  described, 
in  the  eleventh  verse  of  this  cliapter,  as  standing  round 
about  the  throne,  and  falling  before  the  throne  on  their 
faces,  and  worshipping  God.  But  these  are  not  the 
worshippers  referred  to  in  the  text.  There  is  another 
and  a  more  numerous  class  of  priests  serving  in  this 
temple,  singing  another  and  a  louder  song,  and  occu- 
pying as  honourable  a  place.  "  These  are  they,  which 
came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their 
robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  tlie  Lamb." 

1.  This  description  reminds  us,  first,  of  the  former 
condition  of  these  worshippers.  It  tells  us  that  it  was  an 
earthhj  condition.  They  were  not,  like  the  angels,  born 
in  this  house.  They  were  natives  of  an  apostate  world, 
and  had  an  earthly  origin.  The  powers  of  their  nature 
were  once  far  less  exalted  than  those  of  their  fellow- 
worshippers,  and  they  were  altogether  incapable  of 
sharing  in  many  of  their  services.  Their  spirits  were 
united  to  a  frail  body,  a  body  of  humiliation,  taken  from 
the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  rapidly  tending  to  dust  again. 

Their  condition  too  was  a  shful  one.  Their  great 
tribulation  was  brought  upon  them  by  the  greatness  of 
their  sins.  Not  that  they  were  more  sinful  than  the 
other  inhabitants  of  the  earth  which  they  dwelt  on,  but 
they  were  once  as  much  encompassed  with  infirmities 
as  any  of  their  brethren,  as  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins. 
There  is  not  one  among  them,  who  was  not  a  transgres- 
sor while  on  earth,  and  who  has  not  to  this  very  hour  a 
remembrance  of  his  guilt.  It  is  this  remembrance, 
which  makes  their  gratitude  so  fervent,  and  their  song 
so  loud.  It  is  this,  which  draws  from  them  so  exalted 
a  hymn  of  praise,  that  the  angels  cannot  reach  its  strains, 
and  are  forced  to  wonder  at  its  sweetness. 


the  Heavenly  Temple.  IS 

They  were  also  in  an  afficted  condition.  Not  a  single 
sorrow  nor  care  now  enters  their  hearts,  yet  they  were 
once  in  "  great  tribulation."  Many  of  them  came  out 
of  a  state  of  peculiar  distress  and  sufferings.  "  They  had 
trials  of  cruel  mockings  and  scourgings,  yea  moreover 
of  bonds  and  imprisonment.  They  were  stoned,  were 
sawn  asunder,  were  slain  with  the  sword.  They  wan- 
dered about  in  sheep  skins  and  goat  skins,  being  desti- 
tute, afflicted,  torniented.  All  of  them  were  in  some  de- 
gree men  of  sorrows.  They  were  as  well  acquainted 
with  poverty  and  want,  anxiety  and  care,  as  we  are  now. 
Their  bodies  were  as  weak  and  liable  to  pain  and  sick- 
ness, as  dur  ow^n.  Their  houses  of  mourning  were  as 
frequentimd  gloomy,  and  their  graves  as  dreary  and  cold. 

It  wa4  the  same  with  their  spiritual  troubles.  They 
felt,  at  keasons,  the  same  painful  and  suspicious  fears, 
that  we  feel ;  they  were  assaulted  by  the  same  tempta- 
tions, stricken  by  the  same  arrows,  and  forced  to  strug 
gle  with^he  same  enemies.  Not  a  single  temporal  or 
spiritual  sorrow  can  ever  enter  into  our  hearts,  which 
has  not  beeti  a  thousand  times  felt,  in  all  its  bitterness, 
by  these  rejoicing  inhabitants  of  the  heavenly  world. 

2.  Such  was  the  original  condition  of  these  worship- 
pers ;  it  was  an  earthly,  a  sinful,  and  a  suffering  one. 
Let  us  look,  secondly,  at  their  present  condition.  Here 
however  our  knowledge  again  fails  us.  We  know  what 
it  is  to  be  sinful  and  afflicted  creatures  upon  earth,  but 
v^'e  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  holy  and  rejoicing  be- 
ings before  the  throne  of  God  in  heaven.  In  this  far 
distant  world,  we  can  neither  see  all  the  glories  of  the 
temple  above  us,  nor  enter  into  the  full  meaning  of  its 
services.  Some  particulars  however  of  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  redeemed  saints,  are  given  us  by  the  be- 
loved disciple  in  this  vision. 


14  The  Worshippers  in 

It  is  represented  to  us  as  a  state  o{  peace^  a  state  of 
freedom  from  sorrow  and  from  pain.  They  are  come 
out  of  their  tribulation ;  they  have  passed  through  it, 
and  left  it  all  behind.  Their  wearisome  pilgrimage  is 
brought  to  an  everlasting  end.  They  have  exchanged 
an  earth  of  labour  and  misery,  for  a  heaven  of  peace  and 
rest.  The  billows  of  adversity,  which  once  filled  their 
souls  with  fear,  still  roll  on  and  rage,  but  they  arc  all  roll- 
ing far  beneath  them,  and  can  never  again  toss  them  with 
their  waves.  We  deem  it  a  mercy  to  be  kept  for  a  day, 
yea,  for  an  Iiour,  free  from  anxiety  and  sorrow ;  but 
some  of  these  worshippers  have  not  shed  a  single  tear, 
nor  been  harassed  by  a  single  care,  for  ages. 

Their  state  is  also  a  state  of  purity.  "  They  have 
washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb."\Without  this  washing  they  could  never 
have  been  admitted  into  the  heavenly  temple,  for  nothing 
that  defiles  has  ever  entered  there.  Even  in  that  earthly 
house,  which  was  built  for  the  Lord  at  Jerusalem,  his 
priests  were  constrained  to  wash  in  the  sacred  laver  be- 
fore they  approached  the  mercy-seat,  which  was  the 
symbol  of  his  presence ;  and  surely  he  will  not  admit 
one,  who  is  defiled  and  unclean,  to  minister  before  him 
in  his  temple  above.  He,  that  was  so  careful  of  the 
purity  of  his  earthly  house,  will  not  suffer  his  heavenly 
mansion  to  be  polluted. 

The  robes  of  these  priests  were  once  indeed  defiled 
and  stained  by  sin.  Tiieir  garments  were  as  mean  and 
polluted  as  our's  are  now,  and  neither  men  nor  angels 
could  have  cleansed  them.  Ten  thousand  tears  of  peni- 
tence could  not  have  washed  them  white,  nor  the  blood 
of  martyrdom  concealed  their  stains.  How  then  was 
their  filthiness  removed  ?  By  the  water  of  baptism  ?  All 
these  priests  were  indeed  washed  in  this  water,  but  it 


the  Heavenly  Temple,  1 5 

was  not  this,  which  purified  their  sotrfs^^.  Daily  experi- 
cnce  proves  that  no  oiit\v^ra  means  can  remove  the 
crimson  stain  of  sin  or  d(/away  its  fikhiness.  While  we 
are  contending  that  bsrjotism  has  this  powe/,  thousands 
around  us,  who  ha^e  been  baptized  iji  the  name  of 
Christ,  are  givina/^  death-blow  to  all  our  reasonings  by 
their  worldly  am  ungodly  lives.  This,  as  well  as  every 
other  ordinaiufe,  is  indeed  sometimes  made  the  means 
of  communicating  blessings  to  the  soul;  but  there  is  no 
inseparably  connexion  between  the  outward  visible  sign 
and  the  inward  spiritual  grace  of  any  sacrament.  A  man 
may  g^  to  the  table  of  the  Lord,  and  yet  not  discern  the 
Lord^s  body  there.  He  may  be  washed  in  the  water  of 
baptism,  and  yet  be  as  much  in  the  gall  of  bitterness 
and  in  the  bond  of  iniquity,  as  Simon  Magus  or  Judas 
Iscariot. 

Could  we  but  once  be  brou?^ht,  brethren,  to  see  some- 
thing of  the  real  nature  and  extent  of  the  depravity, 
which  reigns  within  us,  we  should  that  very  moment  be 
convinced,  that  no  cutvv'ard  ordinances,  no  human  ex- 
ertions, can  cleanse  the  soul  from  its  pollution  ;  that  the 
evil  is  too  powerful  and  too  deeply  seated  to  yield  to 
such  remedies  as  these.  We  should  see  that  the  matter 
will  not  admit,  for  a  moment,  of  doubt  or  argument. 
Our  feelings  would  at  once  refute  the  most  subtle 
reasonings. 

There  is  indeed  a  fountain,  which  has  power  to  wash 
away  sin  and  uncleanness  ;  but  this  is  a  spiritual  foun- 
tain, possessing  a  spiritual  and  mighty  efficacy.  These 
heavenly  priests  have  discovered  this  sacred  laver,  and 
in  their  songs  they  point  it  out  to  us.  We  find  them 
always  ascribing  the  change  which  has  passed  on  them 
to  one  cause,  and  giving  to  one  Being  all  the  glor}-. 
"  Unto  hiip,  that  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our 


16  The  Worshippers  hi 

sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and 
priests  unto  God  and  his  Father,  to  him  be  glory  and 
dominion  for  ever  and  ever."  "  They  have  washed 
their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb  ;"  tliat  blood,  vv'hich,  the  Bible  tells  us,  cleanseth 
from  all  sin,  and  which  can  make  the  sinner's  defiled 
robes  as  white  as  snow.  ''  Therefore,''''  says  the  text, 
"  are  they  before  the  throne  of  God."  This  was  the 
reason,  why  the  everlasting  doors  of  the  heavenly  tem- 
ple were  opened  to  them,  while  thousands  of  their  fel- 
low-sinners are  for  ever  excluded  from  its  courts — ■ 
*^  they  were  washed,  they  were  sanctified,  they  were 
justified,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the 
Spirit  of  our  God." 

When  once  they  had  applied  to  this  cleansing  foun- 
tain, they  were  brought  into  a  state  of  pardon  and  ac- 
ceptance with  God.  "  He  blotted  out  as  a  thick  cloud 
their  transgressions,  and  as  a  cloud  their  sins."  The 
guilt  of  their  sins,  strictly  speaking,  still  remains  on 
them.  They  still  deserve,  and  ever  must  deserve,  the 
wrath  of  God ;  but  all  their  liability  to  punishment  is 
completely  and  for  ever  done  away,  so  entirely  removed 
from  them,  that  their  reconciled  God  deals  with  them 
in  heaven,  as  though  he  remembered  their  sins  and  ini- 
quities no  more.  In  this  sense,  "  He  does  not  see  ini- 
quity in  Jacob,  nor  perverseness  in  Israel."  God  looks 
upon  his  saints  as  criminals,  but  he  views  them  in  Christ 
as  acquitted  criminals,  as  beloved  children  ;  as  having 
obtained,  by  an  act  of  grace,  a  complete  and  perfect 
pardon,  and  received  from  him  a  title  to  richer  privi- 
leges, than  their  sin  had  forfeited.  They  were  indeed, 
continually  contracting  fresh  defilement  as  long  as  they 
remained  on  earth,  and  were  constrained  to  wash  again 
and  again  in  the  same  fountain,  that  cleansed  their  robes 


the  Heavenly  Temple.  17 

at  first ;  but  if  this  fountain  had  left  the  unpardoned 
guilt  of  only  one  sin  upon  their  souls,  that  one  sin 
would  have  disqualified  them  for  the  pure  services  of 
the  habitation  of  God,  and  have  barred  for  ever  its 
sacred  doors  against  their  entrance. 

This  free  and  full  pardon  of  their  sins  is  not  however 
the  only  blessing,  which  the  heavenly  worshippers  have 
obtained  through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.     Had  this 
been  all,  they  could  never  have  joined  in  the  worship 
of  the  heavenly  world,  nor  sung  the  songs  of  Zion.  The 
same  fountain,  that  freed  them  from  the  guilt  of  sin, 
washed  away  sin  itself,   freed  them  from  its  reigning 
power,  and  put  a  new  and  holy  principle  within  their 
hearts.  Not  that  they  were  at  once  brought  into  a  state 
of  perfect  purity.    As  the  consecration  of  some  of  the 
Jewish  priests  was  carried  on  for  many  days  before  it 
was  completed,  so  the  purification  of  these  priests  was  a 
long  and  arduous  work.     Years  passed  away  before 
some  of  them  were  completely  sanctified,  and  made 
meet  to  minister  among  the  saints  in  light ;   and  they 
were  all  plagued  to  their  dying  hour,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  with  the  struggling  corruptions  of  their 
evil  hearts.    But  sin  could  not  follow  them  beyond  the 
grave.     As  soon  as  their  liberated  souls  escaped  from 
this  world  of  pollution,  they  entered  a  world,  where 
this  enemy  can  never  come ;  and  all  is  now  unsullied 
purity  and  perfect  holiness.    Their  graces,  which  were 
so  often  obscured  and  sullied  here  on  earth,  now  shine 
forth  with  unclouded  brightness  and  never-fading  lustre. 
""  Christ,"  says  the  Scripture,  ^'  loved  the  church,  and 
gave  himself  for  it,  that  he  might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it 
with  the  washing  of  water  by  the  word,  that  he  might 
present  it  to  himself  a  glorious  church,  not  having  spot, 

C 


18  The  Worshippers  in 

or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing,  but  that  it  should  be 
holy  and  without  blemish." 

We  may  observe,  further,  that  the  state  of  these 
worshippers  in  the  temple  of  God  is  a  state  of  triumph. 
The  white  robes,  in  which  they  are  clad,  are  not  tl)cir 
only  ornaments.  We  are  told  in  the  ninth  verse  of 
this  chapter,  that  they  have  palms  in  their  hands. 

The  palm  tree,  among  many  of  the  ancient  nations, 
was  an  emblem  of  victory.  Hence  its  branches  were 
used  to  adorn  triumphal  processions.  The  general, 
whose  victories  the  triumph  was  designed  to  celebrate, 
carried  a  small  branch  of  it  in  his  hand,  and  was  thus 
recognized  as  a  conqueror.  When  therefore  the  re- 
deemed are  described  as  having  palms  in  their  hands, 
we  are  reminded  that  they  were  once  soldiers,  who 
were  not  ashamed  to  confess  the  faith  of  Christ  cruci- 
fied, but  fought  manfully  under  his  banner,  and  by  the 
strength  of  his  arm  completely  conquered  every  enemy. 
The  saints  on  earth  indeed  are  warring  the  same  war- 
fare, in  which  these  glorified  beings  were  engaged,  and 
are  continually  obtaining  victories  in  it ;  but  then  they 
must  wait  till  all  the  days  of  their  warfare  are  accom- 
plished, before  they  can  have  the  triumphal  chariot  and 
the  paJm.  The  soldier  never  triumphs  till  the  v/ar  is 
ended,  and  the  enemy  completely  subdued.  The 
saints  in  heaven  have  finished  the  painful  conflict,  and 
are  now  gone  up  for  their  reward  to  Jehovah's  temple. 
And  O  what  blessed  triumphs  are  theirs !  What  glori- 
ous spoils  !  What  everlasting  shouts  of  victory  and 
songs  of  joy  !  Their  triumph  is  a  never  ending  tri- 
umph.  Their  palms  will  never  wither.  Their  robes 
of  honour  will  never  fade.  The  lustre  of  their  crown 
never  can  be  tarnished.  The  light  of  day  will  be  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  stars  of  heaven  be  darkened,  but 


the  Heavenly  Temple.  19 

the  brightness  of  their  glory  will  be  as  incorruptible  as 
the  throne  of  God. 

.3.  As  we  look  on  these  worshippers  in  heaven,  we 
may  observe,  thirdly,  the  greatness  of  their  number. 
They  are  said,  in  the  ninth  verse,  to  be  '"'a  multitude, 
a  great  multitude,  a  multitude  which  no  man  can 
number." 

But  here  it  may  be  asked,  Whence  can  this  great 
multitude  come  ?  We  read  our  Bibles,  and  we  find  the 
people  of  God  spoken  of  there  as  a  little  flock.  We 
look  around  us  in  the  world,  and  are  sometimes  tempted 
to  ask,  Where  shall  a  godly  man  be  found?  How 
then  shall  this  great  multitude  be  brought  to  glory  ? 
From  what  unknown  globe  has  sovereign  mercy  fetched 
them  ?  We  dare  not  say,  in  answer  to  these  enquiries, 
that  all,  who  are  now  rejoicing  in  the  heavenly  courts, 
were  once  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  on  which  we  live. 
The  benefits  of  redeeming  grace  may  be  as  extensive 
as  the  boundaries  of  the  creation.  There  is  however 
every  reason  to  suppose,  that  the  great  multitude  of 
saints,  who  are  spoken  of  in  this  vision,  were  origi- 
nally strangers  and  pilgrims  in  this  world  of  sorrow. 
It  is  true  indeed  that  the  way,  which  leads  from  this 
sinful  world  to  the  heavenly  mansions,  is  represented 
in  the  Scriptures  as  extremely  narrow.  We  see  too 
that  there  are  few  walking  in  it.  But  it  does  not  there- 
fore follow,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  human  race  de 
scend  by  another  road  to  another  kingdom.  Millioni 
of  the  children  of  men  are,  we  trust,  carried  yearly  \\\ 
their  infancy  to  the  realms  of  light  and  many  an  aged 
saint  also  is  seen  patiently  walking  in  the  path,  which 
leads  to  God,  and  will  soon  be  standing  in  his  temple, 
a  rejoicing  priest.  Satan  does  not  number  among  his 
subjects  all  the  inhabitants  of  our  globe.  The  Re- 
deemer has  a  people  on  the  earth.     He  is  seeing  of 


?i0  The  Worshippers  in 

the  travail  of  his  soul  in  many  places,  and  in  a  thou- 
sand hearts,  though  we  see  it  not.  Who  can  tell  how 
many  an  humble  Christian  has  been  travelling  to  the 
land  of  rest,  while  almost  all  around  him,  and  even  the 
honoured  instrument,  that  first  turned  his  soul  to  God, 
have  been  ignorant  of  his  faith  ?  The  man  has  poured 
forth  alone  his  prayers  and  tears.  Men  have  not  seen 
the  uplifted  eye,  nor  heard  the  secret  prayer  for  m.ercy  ; 
but  the  angels  of  heaven  have  rejoiced  over  the  weep- 
ing suppliant,  and  at  Icui^th  carried  him  in  triumph  to 
the  temple  of  his  God.  We  know  too,  that  before  the 
destruction  of  this  world  of  sin,  it  will  become  the 
kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ.  A  time  is 
rapidly  approaching,  when  the  standard  of  the  cross 
shall  be  erected  in  every  land,  and  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
reign  in  every  place.  We  need  not  fear  being  solitary 
inhabitants  of  the  heavenly  house.  God  has  not  built 
so  splendid  a  ten^ple  to  be  the  only  blank  in  his 
crowded  creation.  We  and  all  around  us  may  make 
light  of  that  voice,  which  invites  us  to  enter  in,  but 
still  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb  will  be  abun- 
dantly furnished  with  guests. 

A  review  of  the  cheering  subject,  which  we  have 
thus  briefly  considered,  leads  us  to  observe,  in  conclu- 
sion, that  the  gospel  of  Christ  does  not  promise  to  its  fol- 
lowers any  exemption  from  the  calamities  of  life.  It 
tells  us  that  man  is  born  to  trouble,  and  that  the  ser- 
vants of  God  shall  have  their  full  portion  of  the  sor- 
rows of  mortality.  The  Bible  does  not  attempt  to 
cheat  us  into  a  profession  of  religion  by  false  represen- 
tations. It  promises  us  happiness  in  heaven,  and  many 
joys  in  the  road,  which  leads  to  it ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  it  plainly  tells  us  that  this  road  is  a  path  of  trial. 
All  the  saints  are  indeed  described  as  rejoicing,  but 


the  Heavenly  Temple.  Si 

then  they  are  said  to  be  "  rejoicing  in  tribulation." 
Their  nearness  to  God  has  neither  removed  calamity 
from  them,  nor  blunted  their  feelings  when  smarting 
under  it.  Who  then  are  we,  brethren,  that  some  spe-  - 
cial  exemption  should  be  made  in  our  favour  ?  David, 
and  Paul,  and  every  other  saint,  have  drunk  of  the  cup 
of  sorrow ;  why  then  should  we  expect  it  to  be  always 
kept  from  our  lips  ?  Have  we  deserved  it  less  than 
they,  or  do  we  need  it  less  ?  Have  we  fewer  sins  to  be 
subdued;  less  pride,  less  self-dependance,  less  earthly- 
mindedness  to  be  rooted  out  ?  Tribulation  is  the  por- 
tion of  all  the  redeemed,  and^  if  we  have  ever  tasted  of 
redemption,  it  will,  in  some  shape  or  other,  be  our 
portion.  Our  Saviour  tells  us  so.  This  is  one  of  the 
first  sayings  he  addresses  to  them,  who  follow  him,  and 
one  of  the  first  truths  he  generally  makes  them  feel  the 
meaning  of,  "  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation." 
Let  us  then  prepare  to  meet  our  promised  trials,  and 
not  only  to  meet  them,  but  to  welcome  them  witli 
cheerfulness  and  joy.  They  are  designed  to  help  us 
forward  in  our  course,  to  lead  us  on  in  the  road,  which 
will  take  us  to  the  temple  and  the  throne  of  God.  ^'  Our 
light  affliction,"  says  one,  who  had  tasted  of  much  se- 
verer sorrows  than  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  of  us,  and 
was  quite  as  capable  of  forming  a  true  estimate  of  their 
nature,  "  Our  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  mo- 
ment, worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory." 

There  is  another  reflection  suggested  to  us  by  the 
words  we  have  been  considering.  How  great  is  the 
contrast  between  the  present  and  the  future  condition  of 
the  followers  of  Jesus  !  Those,  whom  the  apostle  saw 
in  this  glorious  temple,  are  all  said  to  have  come  out 
of  great  tribulation.     They  were  perhaps  some  of  the 


;2S  The  Worshippers  in 

first  and  most  persecuted  members  of  the  church.  But 
what  a  blessed  and  wondrous  change  has  passed  upon 
them  !  They  were  once  perhaps  wandering  about  in 
sheep  skins  and  goat  skins ;  they  are  now  clothed  in 
white  raiment,  walking  the  streets  of  the  new  Jerusa- 
lem, and  treading  tlie  courts  of  its  splendid  temple. 
They  were  once  glad  to  fly  for  shelter  to  mountains, 
caves,  and  dens  of  the  earth  ;  they  are  now  occupying 
everlasting  mansions  in  Jehovah's  house.  Those  heads, 
which  are  now  encircled  with  crowns  of  glory,  were 
once  bowed  down  under  a  sense  of  guilt.  Those 
tongues,  which  are  now  shouting  "  Worthy  is  the 
Lamb."  were  once  complaining  of  their  wretchedness 
and  sin.  Those  hearts,  which  are  now  glowing  with 
the  most  exalted  happiness  and  rejoicing  in  spotless 
purity,  were  once  full  of  corruption  and  perplexity,  and 
aching  with  cares  and  sorrows. 

Has  such  a  change  as  this  passed  on  these  once  sin- 
ful and  afflicted  saints  ?  And  is  there  no  change  await- 
ing those,  who  are  now  following  the  same  Lord  in  the 
«ame  path  of  tribulation  ?  Shall  they  never  exchange  a 
world  of  suffering  for  a  heaven  of  rest,  a  vale  of  tears 
for  a  mount  of  joy  ?  O  lock,  my  Christian  brethren, 
to  that  glorious  army  of  martyrs,  to  that  church  of  the 
first-born.  See  them  on  their  thrones.  Listen  to  their 
songs  of  triumph.  Soon,  very  soon,  shall  you  be  num- 
*  bcred  with  them.  Only  tread  in  their  steps  ;  wash  in 
tliat  fountain,  which  cleansed  them  ;  keep  close  to  that 
Saviour,  in  whom  they  believed  ;  serve  faithfully  that 
God  whom  they  loved  and  feared;  and  your  robes 
shall  soon  be  as  white  as  theirs,  your  songs  as  joyful, 
your  crowns  as  bright. 

But  the  voice  of  consolation  is  not  the  only  language, 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  addresses  to  us  in  the  text.     Here 


the  Heave?ily  Temple.  23 

is,  lastl}',  a  loud  call  to  self-€xa?nlnation.  This  great 
multitude,  brethren,  may  stand  before  the  throne  of 
God,  and  yet  we  may  not  be  included  in  their  number. 
The  gates  of  this  heavenly  temple  may  be  opened  to 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  ransomed  sinners,  and 
yet  closed  against  us.  There  is  another  and  a  very 
different  house,  in  which  we  may  be  forced  to  seek  an 
everlasting  home.  There  is  the  dwelling-place  of  Sa- 
tan in  eternity,  as  well  as  the  temple  of  the  living  God. 
To  which  of  these  mansions  then  are  we  hastening? 
We  must  soon  be  lodged  for  ever  in  one  or  the  other 
of  them ,  which  will  be  our  habitation  ?  Shall  we  be 
the  ministering  priests  of  Satan  or  of  God  ? 

If  we  would  obtain  a  faithful  answer  to  such  ques- 
tions as  these,  we  must  not  be  content  with  referring 
to  our  present  troubles,  and  drawing  an  inference  from 
them  that  all  will  in  the  end  be  well.  Tribulation,  it 
is  true,  is  the  portion  of  the  people  of  God,  but  it  is 
also  the  portion  of  another  and  a  more  numerous  peo- 
ple, the  children  of  the  wicked  one.  The  severest  af- 
flictions prove  nothing  as  to  our  spiritual  state  and  cha- 
racter. We  may  be  amongst  the  most  wretched  on 
earth,  and  yet,  notwithstanding  all  our  sufferings,  we 
may  be  also  amongst  the  most  wretched  in  the  world 
to  come.  We  may  resemble  the  glorified  inhabitants 
of  heaven  in  their  former  state  of  tribulation,  and  yet 
never  be  made  partakers  of  their  present  happiness. 
The  question  to  be  asked  is  not,  v/hether  I  have  been 
afflicted ;  but,  whether  my  afflictions  have  been  sanc- 
tified afflictions ;  whether,  through  grace,  they  have 
forced  me  to  see  m}^  spiritual  nriisery  and  wretched- 
ness ;  whether  they  have  made  me  feel  the  plague  of 
my  sinful  heart,  and  led  me  to  seek  for  help  in  a  cru- 
cified  Saviour;  whether  they  have  softened,  changed. 


2^i  The  Wurshippers  in 

humbled  me?  The  great  question  is,  have  I  washed  in 
that  fountain,  which  God  has  opened  for  sin  and  for 
imcleanness,  and  have  I  been  really  cleansed  there  ?  Is 
the  power  of  sin  giving  way,  and  the  love  of  holiness 
gradually  gaining  strength  in  my  heart  ?  O  brethren, 
how  few  among  us  can  bear  to  bring  our  profession  of 
Christianity  to  such  a  test  as  this !  We  have  no  heartfelt 
sense  of  our  spiritual  pollution  ;  we  feel  not  our  need  of 
Christ ;  we  desire  not  the  washing  of  his  blood.  As 
for  inward  purity,  purity  of  heart,  we  seldom  think  of 
it,  and  can  hardly  understand  what  is  meant  by  it.  But 
what  is  that  hope  of  heaven  worth,  which  is  not  accom- 
panied with  ihis  inward  purity  ?  Does  not  the  Scrip- 
ture say,  "  He,  that  hath  this  hope  in  him,"  a  good 
hope  of  heaven,  "  purifieth  himself,  even  as  God  is 
pure?"  and  do  not  your  consciences  testify,  that  there 
is  no  communion  between  purity  and  you  ? 

Dare  not  then,  in  direct  opposition  to  the  word  of 
God,  to  hope  for  heaven  till  sin  is  become  hateful  to 
vour  soul,  and  perfect  holiness  the  first  wish  of  your 
heart ;  till  you  have  gone  with  a  feeling,  penitent,  and 
believing  heart,  to  the  fountain,  which  infinite  mercy 
has  opened  for  transgressors  on  the  cross,  and  washed 
your  defiled  robes  and  made  them  white  in  its  sacred 
water.  This  fountain  is  still  standing  open  for  sinners. 
The  Redeemer's  work  of  salvation  is  not  yet  completed. 
Though  he  has  already  carried  innumerable  thousands 
to  his  house,  there  yet  is  room,  room  for  thousands 
more,  room  for  you.  Do  you  really  desire  to  enter 
in  ?  Have  you  but  a  willing  and  an  humble  heart  ? 
This  is  all  a  gracious  Saviour  asks.  Take  it  to  his 
cross.  However  polluted  by  iniquity,  he  will  cleanse 
it  there,  and  make  you  a  pure  and  rejoicing  worship- 
per for  ever  in  the  temple  of  your  God. 


SERMON  II. 


THE  WORSHIP  AND  PRIVILEGES  OF  THE 
HEAVENLY  TEJMPLE. 


REVELATION  vii.   15,   16,   17. 

Therefore  are  they  before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and 
night  in  his  temfile ;  and  he,  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,  shall  dwell 
among  them.  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more  ; 
neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat;  for  the  Lamb, 
nvhich  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead 
them  unto  living  fountains  ofivaters  :  and  God  shall  wijie  aivay  all 
tears  from  their  eyes. 

XN  the  preceding  verse  of  this  chapter,  the  beloved 
disciple  gives  us  a  short  account  of  the  former  condi- 
tion of  those,  whose  blessedness  he  here  describes.  He 
tells  us  that  they  were  not  always  in  that  happy  and 
honoured  state,  in  which  he  saw  them ;  that  they  were 
once  inhabitants  of  a  ruined  world,  and  had  their  full 
share  of  its  cares,  its  sorrows,  and  its  sins.  He  tell  us 
also  of  the  means,  by  which  the  great  change  that  has 
passed  on  them  was  effected,  and  ascribes  it  solely  to 
one  cause,  the  blood  of  Christ.  He  then  goes  on  to  in- 
form us  what  the  merit  of  this  blood  has  done  for  them ; 
it  has  washed  them  from  their  sins,  lifted  them  out  of 
their  great  tribulation,  and  carried  them  in  triumph  to 
the  city  of  their  God.  Neither  is  this  all.  It  has  not 
only  opened  for  them  the  everlasting  doors  of  the  new 
Jerusalem,  but  placed  them  in  the  very  palace  of  its 
King,  made  them  priests  in  the  heavenly  temple,  and 
the  most  honoured  and  happy  among  them,  who  wor- 
ship there.    *<  They  are  before  the  throne  of  God  ;  they 

D 


26  The  Worship  and  Privileges 

serve  liim  day  and  night  in  his  temple  ;  and  he,  that 
sits  on  the  throne,  dwells  among  them,  and  wipes  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes." 

It  is  plain  from  the  words  before  us,  that  heaven, 
though  a  place  of  rest,  is  not  a  scene  of  inactivity.  It 
is  a  temple,  in  the  services  of  which  all  the  redeemed 
saints  are  constantly  and  dihgently  employed.  What 
then  is  the  nature  of  its  services  ?  and  what  are  the 
privileges  of  those,  who  are  en  ployed  therein  '?  An  an- 
gel from  heaven,  my  brethren,  could  not  fully  answer 
these  questions  in  the  language  of  mortals,  and  if  he 
could,  we  should  not  understand  him  Before  we  can 
form  any  adequate  ideas  of  the  employments  and  joys 
of  this  heavenly  temple,  we  must  enter  its  doors  and 
worship  in  its  courts.  We  may  however  see  some- 
thing of  its  glories  in  the  glowing  description  before  us. 
This  description  leads  us  to  consider, ^r^^,  the  worship 
of  the  glorified  saints,  and,  secondly^  their  privileges. 

1.  What  then  is  the  nature  of  that  worship,  which 
is  offered  to  the  Lord  in  his  holy  temple  in  heaven  ? 

We  may  obtain  an  imperfect  answer  to  this  enquiry, 
by  contrasting  the  pure  and  perfect  services  of  its 
priests,  with  the  polluted  offerings  of  the  saints  be- 
low. This  view  of  the  subject  is,  it  is  true,  humilia- 
ting, but  it  is  at  the  same  time  calculated  to  encourage 
and  to  cheer  our  hearts. 

It  must  however  be  previously  observed,  that  the 
worship  in  this  heavenly  temple  is  not  materially  dif- 
ferent in  its  nature  from  the  worship  of  our  earthly 
temples.  The  saints  in  glory,  may,  it  is  true,  have 
faculties  and  powers  communicated  to  them,  of  which 
we  have  not,  in  our  present  state,  the  slightest  idea, 
and  they  may  employ  these  powers  in  acts  of  worship, 
with  which  we  are  altogether  unacquainted  ;  but  as  far 


of  the  Heavenly  Temple.  ^7 

as  our  limited  understandings  enable  us  to  comprehend 
the  descriptions  given  us  of  their  services,  we  can  sec 
nothing  in  them  of  a  nature  essentially  different  from 
our  own.  Some  parts  of  our  present  worship  may, 
indeed,  be  altogether  laid  aside  or  greatly  altered  in  a 
holier  world.  We  shall  not  have  any  new  sins  to  mourn 
over  in  heaven,  and  the  workings  of  repentance  may 
consequently  never  be  experienced  there  and  the  voice 
of  confession  be  silenced  for  ever.  The  soul  will  pro- 
bably be  still  mindful  of  its  former  state  of  iniquity  and 
vileness,  but  the  remembrance  will  have  no  power  to 
disturb  its  serenity,  and  serve  only  to  give  an  addi- 
tional sweetness  to  the  purity  with  which  if  will  be 
clothed,  and  fresh  energy  to  the  gratitude,  which  its 
blessedness  will  excite. 

Prayer  too  seems  to  be  principally  designed  for  our 
present  state  of  infirmity  and  want.  It  is  true  that  we 
shall  be  dependent  creatures  even  in  heaven,  and  as 
much  indebted  to  the  divine  goodness  for  the  blessings 
of  every  moment  as  we  are  on  earth ;  but  then  we  know 
that  even  here  the  rich  bounty  of  God  can  anticipate 
our  wants  ;  and  he  can  surely  fill  the  hearts  of  his  ser- 
vants with  happiness  hereafter,  without  keeping  them 
continually  as  suppliants  at  his  footstool.  Prayer  is 
not  the  only  means,  which  he  can  employ  to  keep  us 
mindful  of  our  dependance  and  meanness.  We  shall 
stand  before  the  throne,  and  the  majesty  and  greatness 
of  him  that  sitteth  thereon  will  force  us  to  see,  that  no 
flesh  can  glory  in  his  presence,  and  that  the  station, 
which  becomes  the  highest  of  his  creatures,  is  the  dust. 

But  though  the  worship  of  the  saints  is  probably  the 
same  in  its  nature  in  heaven,  as  it  is  on  earth,  yet  there 
is  a  great  difference  in  the  manner,  in  which  this  \vor- 
ship  is  offered  up  in  these  two  worlds,  a  difference  so 


2S  The  WorsJiip  and  Privileges 

great,  that  the  liveliest  earthly  worshipper  bears  but  a 
faint  resemblance  to  the  meanest  heavenly  one.  The 
same  dispositions  are  in  both  places  brought  into  exer- 
cise, but  then  these  dispositions  are  freed  in  the  one 
from  all  those  counteracting  feelings,  v/hich  are  con- 
stantly felt  in  the  other.  They  are  enlivened,  and  re- 
fined, and  raised  to  a  fulness  of  vigour  and  of  joy. 

1.  In  contrasting  the  worship  of  these  two  worlds, 
we  may  observe,  first,  that  the  worship  of  heaven  is  wi- 
i?iterrupted,  constant.  *'  They  serve  him  day  and  night 
in  his  temple."  We  are  incapable  of  this  continual  wor- 
ship in  our  present  state.  Our  feeble  bodies  require  us 
to  give  several  hours  of  every  night  to  sleep,  and  it  is 
only  a  small  part  of  the  day,  that  the  necessary  concerns 
of  life  will  allow  us  to  set  apart  to  God.  Even  the  little 
time  which  we  are  enabled  to  devote  to  private,  family, 
and  public  worship,  is  not  all  spent  in  the  work,  in 
which  we  appear  to  be  engaged.  The  cares  of  the  world 
follow  us  into  our  closets  and  our  churches,  and  tie 
down  to  the  earth  the  heart,  which  should  rise  to  meet 
its  God.  When  too  the  soul  does  disengage  itself  from 
its  bonds,  it  is  but  for  a  season.  If  it  soars  to  its  native 
heavens  one  hour,  it  sinks  down  into  the  dust  the  next. 
Its  spirits  are  soon  exhausted,  and  its  powers  Aitigucd 
and  weakened.  It  is  not  thus  however  in  the  heavenly 
temple.  They,  who  worship  there,  never  need  repose. 
There  is  no  weariness  to  put  a  stop  to  their  service,  nor 
any  cares  and  anxieties  to  distract  and  pollute  it.  If  we, 
brethren,  are  ever  suifered  to  join  that  glorious  assem- 
bly,  all  beyond  the  grave  will  be  one  never  ending  sab- 
bath, and  we  shall  always  be  in  a  sabbatli  spirit.  After 
millions  of  ages  spent  in  the  delightful  service,  instead 
of  tiring  or  fainting,  the  soul  will  be  hourly  acquiring 
an  increase  of  strength.  The  very  work,  in  which  it  is 


of  the  Heavenly  Temple.  29 

engaged,  will  enlarge  and  exalt  its  faculties,  and  add 
vigour  to  its  energies. 

2.  The  worship  of  the  heavenly  world  is  also  pure. 
All,  who  are  engaged  in  it,  are  holy  worshippers.  Into 
whatever  assenibly  the  Christian  goes  here,  he  must  of- 
fer up  his  prayers  and  praises  in  company  with  some, 
who  love  not  his  Saviour,  and  who  fear  not  his  God ; 
but  there  the  assembly  is  composed  of  those  only,  who 
are  spiritual  and  holy  worshippers.  Their  number  is 
immense;  they  form  a  great  multitude;  but  not  one 
formalist,  not  one  self- deceiver,  not  one  hypocrite,  can 
be  found  amongst  them.  And  not  only  are  all  the  wor- 
shippers pure,  their  worship  itself  is  free  from  all  mix- 
ture of  imperfection  and  sin.  There  is  no  blcmisii 
cither  in  the  priest  or  in  the  sacrifice,  but  all  is  holi- 
ness to  the  Lord. 

3.  Their  worship  too  is  fervent.  If  we  knov^  any 
thing  of  real  religion,  we  know  that  our  affections  are 
not  always  in  active  exercise,  when  we  are  engaged  in 
the  work  of  prayer  or  praise.  Our  hearts  are  often  cold 
and  dead.  We  strive  to  raise  them  up  to  something 
like  devotion,  but  they  seem  at  seasons  as  though  they 
had  lost  all  feeling,  and  were  become  insensible  as 
stones.  This  deadness  must  be  ascribed  partly  to  the 
weakness  of  our  nature,  and  partly  to  its  sinfulness. 
The  Christian  mourns  over  it,  and  prays  and  strives 
against  it,  but  his  watchfulness  and  efforts  will  not  be 
always  successful.  After  all  his  exertions,  his  heart  will 
sometimes  be  cold  and  his  devotions  languid.  It  is  not 
so  in  heaven.  They  who  sing  of  salvation  there,  sing 
of  it  ^'  with  a  loud  voice"  and  an  overflowing  heart.  No 
coldness  of  feeling,  no  deadness  of  love,  distresses  their 
souls.  All  is  fervour  and  zeal,  spirit  and  life. 

4.  Hence  the  worship  they  offer  is  a  delightful  worship. 


30  The  Worship  and  Privileges 

The  services  of  our  erirthly  houses  of  prayer  are  in  some ' 
desrree  delicrhtful.  The  Christian  finds  them  to  be  so. 
He  feels  it  to  be  good  for  him  to  draw  near  to  God  in 
them,  and  is  often  rcfrcslied,  and  comforted,  and  made 
joyful  in  his  house  of  prayer.  His  Sunday  is  his  day  of 
joy  as  well  as  of  rest.  He  loves  it,  and  looks  forward 
to  it  through  the  other  days  of  the  week  with  expecta- 
tion and  delight.  In  the  midst  of  those  cares  and  vexa- 
tions, which  the  concerns  of  the  world  occasion,  he  is 
often  heard  to  say,  *'  Tlie  Sabbath  will  soon  be  here  ; 
then  shall  I  go  up  to  the  house  of  my  God,  and  find  a 
refuge  from  my  anxieties  and  sorrows.  My  Saviour 
will  meet  me  in  his  sanctuary,  and  I  shall  forget  my 
poverty,  and  remember  my  misery  no  more.  I  shall 
hear  of  his  tenderness  and  love,  and  my  sorrowful  spi- 
rit shall  be  comforted.  1  shall  hear  of  his  bitter  agonies 
and  death,  and  even  my  cold  heart  shall  burn,  and  my 
sinful  soul  shall  hope  for  salvation."  But  these  expec- 
tations of  the  Cliristian  are  not  always  gratified.  The 
troubles  and  anxieties  of  the  week  too  often  follow  him 
on  the  day  of  rest,  and  he  eats  his  spiritual  bread  with 
tears,  and  sends  up  his  languid  prayers  without  enjoy- 
ment or  deUght.  One  sabbath,  his  heart  glows  with  a 
heavenly  joy  as  he  listens  to  the  sound  of  the  gospel ; 
the  next  all  seems  changed.  Ministers  appear  to  have 
lost  their  energy,  the  name  of  Christ  seems  robbed  of 
its  sweetness,  and  the  gospel  no  longer  retains  its  sa- 
vour and  its  charms.  But  when  once  we  have  entered 
the  courts  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  joined  the 
assembly  of  the  saints  who  worship  there,  these  seasons 
of  mourning  will  be  for  ever  at  an  end.  All  the  diffi- 
culties of  our  service  will  have  passed  away,  and  every 
act  of  worship  will  be  delightful  to  the  soul,  and  bring 
with  it  a  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 


of  the  Heavenly  Temple.  31 

5.  The  service  of  heaven  is,  further,  a  united  SGrvice. 
We  are  told,  in  the  ninth  verse  of  this  chapter,  that  the 
multitude,  which  (ills  the  heavenly  temple,  was  taken 
from  '*  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and 
tongues;"  and  yei  these  glorified  priests  form  here  but 
one  body.  They  worship  in  the  same  temple,  and  they 
are  all  engaged  in  the  same  work  ;  the  same  spirit  lives 
in  every  soul,  and  tiie  same  song  is  heard  from  every 
mouth.  All  jarring  contentions  and  frivolous  distinc- 
tions have  ceased,  mutual  prejudices  have  been  forgot- 
ten, and  sects  and  parties  have  been  done  away. 

Do  we,  brethren,  hope  to  join  this  peaceful  company 
in  heaven  ?  Let  us  first  learn  to  be  of  one  mind  here  on 
eartli.  O  what  a  lamentable  difference  is  there,  in  this 
respect,  between  us  and  these  inhabitants  of  the  hea- 
venly world  !  What  discordant  sentiments  and  feelings 
reign  among  us  !  What  jealousies  and  bitter  strifes  in- 
terrupt our  harmony !  As  for  divisions,  some  of  us 
have  ceased  to  regard  them  as  evils,  and  a  spirit  of 
schism  and  ambition  begins  to  be  looked  on  as  a  virtue 
rather  than  as  a  sin.  Brethren,  these  things  ought  not 
so  to  be.  They  are  sad  spots  in  our  feasts  of  charity. 
They  savour  not  of  heaven.  They  are  fruits  of  a  tree, 
which  has  never  flourished  there.  Before  we  can  ever 
enter  yonder  world  of  union  and  of  peace,  the  wisdom, 
•which  is  from  above,  must  have  taught  us  to  root  out 
pride  and  malice  from  our  hearts,  and  bitterness  and 
evil  speaking  must  no  longer  be  sutTered  to  defile  our 
lips !  We  cannot  all  perhaps  be  of  the  same  opinion, 
but  let  us  at  least  be  of  the  same  spirit;  and  let  that  be 
a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  whch  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of 
great  price ;  let  it  be  the  spirit  of  our  Master,  who  was 
meek  and  lowly  in  heart;  who,  ''  when  he  was  reviled, 
reviled  not  again  ;  when  he  suffered,  he  threatened  not, 


32  The  Worship  and  Privileges 

but  committed  himself  to  him  that  judgeth  righ- 
teously." 

6.  The  worship  of  licaven  is  also  humble.  la  the 
midst  of  all  their  glory,  the  redeemed  saints  appear  ia 
the  heavenly  temple  in  the  character  of  creatures  and 
of  sinners.  We  see  no  presumption  nor  pride  in  their 
worship,  no  unholy  familiarity.  The  dignity,  to  which 
they  are  raised,  has  not  made  them  unmindful  of  the 
greatness  of  the  Almighty,  nor  of  that  state  of  meanness 
and  of  sin,  from  which  he  has  rescued  them.  "  They 
fall  down  before  the  throne"  when  they  worship  liim 
that  sitteth  on  it,  and  "  cast  down  their  crowns  before 
him." 

The  very  song,  which  they  sing,  proves  their  great 
humility,  and  the  lively  sense,  which  they  still  entertain 
of  their  former  wretched  and  sinful  condition.  They 
were  once  employed  in  working  out  their  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling ;  but  the  work  has  now  been 
done,  and  a  glorious  salvation  has  been  obtained.  Surely 
then  if  ever  there  was  room  for  boasting,  it  is  now. 
The  battle  has  been  fought ;  the  victory  has  been  won  ; 
ar.d  the  warriors  in  the  conflict  may  surely  take  some 
part  of  the  glory.  But  no  ;  these  triumphant  conquerors 
give  all  the  glory  to  another.  We  hear  nothing  from 
them  of  their  own  patience  and  labours,  their  own  suf- 
ferings and  martyrdoms.  These  are  all  forgotten,  and 
nothing  seems  to  live  in  their  remembrance,  but  their 
former  misery  and  sin,  and  the  grace  and  mercy  of  their 
God.  They  cry  with  a  loud  voice,  saying,  *•'  Salvation 
to  our  God,  which  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the 
Lamb." 

U.  The  worship  then,  which  is  offered  in  the  temple 
of  God  above,  is  uninterrupted,  pure,  fervent,  delight- 
ful;, united,  and  humble.     Let  us  proceed  to  consider. 


qftlie  Heavenly  Temple,  33 

secondly,   the  privileges,  whicli  these   heavenly  wor- 
shippers enjoy. 

1.  We  may  notice,  first,  the  dignity  of  their  station 
in  this  temple.    ''  They  are  before  the  throne  of  God." 

We  may  see  somediing-  of  the  greatness  of  this  ho- 
nour by  looking  back  to  the  Jewish  tabernacle,  the  tem- 
ple of  the  Lord  in  the  wilderness.  The  Israelites  in 
general  were  not  allowed  to  come  near  this  sanctuary  ; 
and,  though  the  Levites  were  permitted  to  pitch  their 
tents  around  it,  it  was  only  the  consecrated  priests 
among  them,  who  dared  to  enter  within  it  to  minister 
before  the  Lord.  Even  these  were  not  permitted  to  go 
into  every  part  of  the  tabernacle.  They  might  go  to  the 
altar  of  burnt  offering,  but  the  holy  place,  where  the 
mercy-seat  was,  could  be  entered  by  the  high-priest 
only,  and  that,  not  when  he  pleased,  but  at  a  stated  pe- 
riod once  in  the  year.  Now  all  this  was  done  to  im- 
press on  the  minds  of  the  Jews  a  deep  sense  of  the  di- 
vine purity  and  greatness  ;  but  it  may  serve  also  to 
shew  us  the  dignity  of  that  station,  to  which  redeemed 
sinners  are  advanced  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  It 
would  have  been  a  miracle  of  mercy  if  they  had 
been  admitted  into  the  outer  courts  of  this  house, 
where  they  might  have  beheld  the  worship  of  the  an- 
gels, and  listened  to  their  songs ;  but  to  be  admitted 
into  the  temple  itself,  to  be  placed  on  an  equality  with 
the  angelic  worshippers  there,  to  share  in  their  services, 
and  to  be  brought  close  to  the  throne  of  Jehovah  in  the 
holy  of  holies — surely  this  is  a  love,  which  passeth 
knowledge.  The  angels  themselves  cannot  comprehend 
it.  All  that  we  can  do  is  to  wonder  and  adore. 

But  let  us  take  a  somewhat  closer  view  of  the  digni- 
fied station,  to  which  these  priests  are  raised.  To  be 
before  the  throne  of  God  implies,  that  they  are  admitted 

E 


3  i  The  JVorship  and  Privileges 

to  the  enjoyment  of  close  co?nmunion  with  him;  that  they 
are  brought  into  his  immediate  presence,  and  have  an 
intimate,  enlarged,  and  continLial  intercourse  with  him  ; 
tliat  they  talk  with  Jehovah,  as  a  man  talketh  with  his 
friend.  Here  we  worship  an  unseen  God.  We  could 
not  bear  the  glory  of  the  divine  presence  in  this  earthly 
state.  Even  the  work  of  his  hands,  the  sun,  which  he 
has  stationed  in  the  heavens,  reflects  more  of  his  splen- 
dour than  our  feeble  eyes  can  bear.  But  if  ever  we 
reach  the  heavenly  courts,  we  shall  see  him,  whom  we 
worship ;  and  have  faculties  communicated  to  us, 
which  will  enable  us  to  bear  and  enjoy  the  sight.  The 
Scriptures  plainly  intimate  to  us  also,  how  the  Almighty 
will  reveal  himself  to  our  eyes.  The  glorified  body  of 
the  once  crucified  Jesus  will  be  the  Shcchinah  in  this 
temple,  through  which  the  full  brightness  of  Jehovah 
will  for  ever  shine  forth.  Hence  we  are  told  that  the 
city,  in  which  this  temple  stands,  has  "  no  need  of  the 
sun,  neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it,  for  the  glory 
of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light 
thereof." 

To  stand  before  the  throne  of  God  implies  also  a  par- 
ticipation of  his  glory  and  happiness,  an  entering  into 
his  blessedness.  In  his  presence  there  is  a  fulness  of 
joy,  and  all,  who  are  admitted  into  his  temple,  partake 
of  it,  and  taste  of  those  pleasures,  which  are  at  his  right 
hand.  We  cannot  describe  these  pleasures  and  this 
joy.  All  that  we  know  of  them  is,  that  they  compre- 
hend the  happiness  in  God  himself,  a  sharing  in  his 
glory,  a  partaking  of  his  bliss.  We  shall  enter  into 
that  joy,  the  very  prospect  of  which  made  the  Son  of 
his  love  willingly  endure  the  cross  and  despise  the 
shame.  *^  Beloved,"  says  Saint  John,  "  now  are  we 
the  sons  of  Godj  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  wc 


of  the  Heavenly  Temple.  So 

shall  be  ;    but  we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we 
shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 

2.  The  text  tells  us  also  of  the  rich  provision,  which 
is  made  Jbr  all  the  wants  oj' the  heavenhj  worshippers. 
As  the  priests  in  the  Jewish  temple  not  only  dwelt  in 
the  house  of  the  Lord,  but  partook  of  the  sacrifices, 
which  were  offered  therein,  so  the  priests  in  Jehovah's 
temple  above  find  in  it  all  the  spiritual  provision,  that 
their  souls  can  desire. 

Has  want  then  ever  found  its  way  into  this  kingdom 
of  happiness  ?  can  its  glorified  inhabitants  need  any 
provision  ?  The  inhabitants  of  heaven,  brethren,  are, 
in  one  sense,  just  as  needy,  as  any  of  the  dwellers  upon 
earth.  The  highest  angel,  that  treads  its  courts,  is  as 
dependent  upon  the  Almighty,  as  the  meanest  insect, 
that  crawls  upon  the  earth  we  live  on.  All  the  crea- 
tures in  the  universe  are  on  an  equality  in  this  respect. 
They,  who  are  before  the  throne  of  God,  are  indeed 
said  *'  to  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more;" 
but  then  it  is  plain  from  the  following  verse,  that  they 
have  many  desires,  which  require  to  be  gratified ;  else 
why  does  the  Lamb  feed  them,  and  lead  them  unto 
living  fountains  of  waters  ?  They  are  strangers  to  that 
hunger,  which  arises  from  want,  and  implies  some  un- 
easy or  painful  sensation ;  but  they  are  not  strangers 
to  that  hungering  and  thirsting  after  God,  which  arises 
from  love  to  him,  and  implies  the  most  earnest  desire 
for  the  enjoyments  of  his  presence.  Their  happiness 
consists  in  having  all  their  spiritual  desires  kept  in  con- 
tinual exercise,  and  in  having  them  fully  gratified. 
They  still  thirst  after  the  water  of  life,  and  it  is  supplied 
to  them  from  those  rivers  of  pleasure,  which  flow 
around  the  throne  of  Jehovah.  They  still  hunger  after 
spiritual  food,  and  their  table  is  spread  with  provisions 


36  ^riie  Worship  and  Privileges 

gathered  from  the  tree  of  life,  which  stands  in  the  midst 
of  the  paradise  of  God. 

The  happiness,  which  results  from  this  provision 
made  for  their  souls,  is  uninterrupted  and  unmixed. 
Nothing  can  enter  their  habitation  to  disturb  or  mar  it. 
**  Neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat. 
God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes."  They 
shall  have  an  eternity  of  joy,  without  one  moment's 
sorrow;  an  immortality  of  bliss,  without  one  moment's 
pain. 

Their  happiness  too  is  everlasting.  They  are  not 
supplied  out  of  the  cistern,  which  may  be  broken  or 
exhausted,  but  from  a  fountain,  which  can  never  fail. 
<^  The  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  shall 
feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of 
waters."  All  our  enjoyments  here  are  precarious  ; 
even  our  spiritual  ones  are  often  transitory ;  but  let 
our  souls  once  ascend  into  the  heavenly  kingdom,  and 
we  shall  be  far  beyond  the  reach  of  precariousness  and 
change.  The  temple,  which  we  shall  inhabit,  defies 
the  hand  of  time  to  touch  or  destroy  it.  No  earth- 
quake can  shake  it,  no  fire  consume  it,  no  tempest  beat 
it  down.  It  is  an  everlasting  habitation,  a  house  not 
made  with  hands  eternal  in  the  heavens.  The  rest  too, 
into  which  we  shall  enter,  will  be  quietness  and  assu- 
rance for  ever.  The  joy,  which  will  be  upon  our  heads, 
will  be  everlasting  joy.  Millions  of  years  will  roll 
away,  but  we  shall  be  still  resting  from  our  labours, 
we  shall  be  still  growing  in  blessedness  and  glory. 
<'  Thy  sun  shall  no  more  go  down,"  saith  the  Lord, 
"  neither  shall  thy  moon  withdraw  itself,  for  the  Lord 
shall  be  thine  everlasting  light ;  and  tlie  days  of  thy 
mourning  shall  be  ended." 

Observe  too  that  the  hand,  from  which  th.ese  hea- 


of  the  Heavenly  Temple.  37 

venly  worshippers  receive  this  rich  provision  for  their 
souls,  this  uninterrupted,  full,  and  never  endinij  happi- 
ness, is  the  same  hand,  that  snatched  them  from  de- 
struction, and  gave  them  all  the  mercies  they  received 
on  earth.  It  is  the  Lamb,  who  feeds  them ;  it  is  the 
Lamb,  who  leads  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters. 
Though  seated  on  the  throne  of  the  universe,  Jesus 
still  sustains  the  character  of  their  Saviour.  He  appears 
in  his  glorious  temple  as  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  and 
delights  to  minister  there  to  his  ransomed  church.  He 
once  shared  in  their  sorrows,  and,  to  comfort  and  cheer 
them  he  fed  them  in  green  pastures,  and  made  them  to 
lie  down  beside  the  still  waters ;  he  now  shares  in  their 
joys,  and  feeds  them  in  far  richer  pastures,  than  they  ever 
saw  below,  and  leads  them,  from  the  streams,  to  the 
living  fountains  of  consolation  and  of  bliss.  . 

There  is  no  happiness  either  in  heaven  or  earth,  in 
time  or  eternity,  which  does  not  proceed  from  the  once 
crucified  Jesus.  He  is  as  much  the  spring  of  all  the 
glory  of  heaven,  as  of  the  pardon  and  grace  bestowed 
on  sinners  upon  earth.  It  is  this  reflection,  which  so 
much  heightens  all  the  joys  of  eternity,  and  makes  the 
thought  of  them  so  sweet  to  the  Christian's  soul — he 
will  receive  them  from  Christ ;  they  v/ill  come  to  him 
from  the  hand  of  his  beloved  Saviour. 

From  this  brief  consideration  of  the  worship  and 
privileges  of  the  heavenly  temple,  we  may  deduce  a 
few  practical  inferences. 

There  is  one  reflection,  which  must  immediately 
force  itself  on  our  notice.  A'b  man  can  be  happy  in 
heaven,  who  has  not  first  learned  to  delight  in  the  wor- 
ship of  God.  The  text  plainly  tells  us,  that  the  happi- 
ness of  heaven  consists  in  this  worship,  and  in  the 
spiritual  privileges  connected  with  it.  If  then  we  have 


38  The  Worship  and  Privileges 

no  taste  for  these  things,  if  the  service  of  God  be  weari- 
some to  us  and  the  blessedness  resulting  from  it  with- 
out power  to  delight  us,  from  what  unknown  source 
do  we  expect  to  derive  that  fulness  of  joy,  which  we 
hope  for  in  heaven?  Of  what  river  of  pleasure  do  we 
expect  to  drink  ?  There  are  no  sensual  delights  to  be 
found  within  its  courts.  The  heaven  of  the  Bible  is 
not  a  Mahometan  paradise.  It  is  a  Christian  temple  ; 
and  all  the  joys  it  has  to  communicate  must  be  found 
in  its  pure  and  spiritual  services,  and  in  the  smiles  of 
its  God.  It  has  no  other  blessedness  to  boast  of,  no 
other  pleasures  to  bestow.  We  must  cither  find  hap- 
piness in  these  things,  or  in  the  midst  of  rejoicing  an- 
gels and  saints,  we  shall  be  wretched,  and  sigh  again 
for  the  enjoyments  of  the  earth  we  have  left. 

How  then  do  we  at  present  stand  affected  towards 
this  temple  and  its  services?  Could  we  find  happiness 
in  them  ?  Does  the  prospect  of  them  enliven  our  affec- 
tions and  enkindle  our  desires  ?  If  we  were  this  very 
moment  to  be  removed  from  this  earthly  house  of  God 
to  his  temple  above,  could  we  be  happy  there  ?  Alas, 
brethren,  how  many  of  us  would  find  its  heavenly 
courts  just  as  irksome  and  wearisome  as  this  house  of 
prayer  !  Wc  should  be  as  dissatisfied  with  the  one,  as 
we  are  with  the  other.  We  should  have  no  other  song 
in  heaven  than  this,  "  What  a  weariness  is  it!  When 
will  this  sabbath  be  gone  ?"  Death  will  make  no  ma- 
terial," no  radical  alteration  in  our  taste  and  desires. 
What  we  love  in  time,  we  shall  love  in  eternity.  What 
is  hateful  to  us  now  will  be  hateful  to  us  then.  We 
must  have  a  relish  for  the  happiness  of  angels  now,  or 
we  shall  be  utterly  incapable  of  enjoying  it  hereafter. 
Heaven  must  be  begun  in  our  worship  below,  if  we 
expect  to  partake  of  its  blessedness  above. 


of  the  Heavenlif  Temple.  3^ 

And  here  we  are  brought  to  the  same  conclusion, 
that  every  religious  subject  will  bring  us  to,  if  we  seri- 
ously consider  it — some  great  change  must  take  place 
within  us,  before  we  can  be  happy  with  God;  a  change, 
not  of  sentiments  and  opinions  merely,  but  a  great 
moral  change,  a  change  of  dispositions  and  afifcctions. 
We  must  be  born  again  of  the  Spirit ;  we  must  be  re- 
newed in  the  spirit  of  our  minds. 

We  may  infer,  secondly,  from  the  employments  and 
privileges  of  the  priests  in  the  heavenly  temple,  the 
great  importance  and  blessedness  of  the  worship  of  God 
here  on  earth.  This  worship  is  not  merely  a  duty, 
which  the  Christian  is  commanded  to  perform ;  it  is 
a  privilege,  which  it  is  permitted  him  to  enjoy.  The 
work  of  prayer  and  praise  is  the  work  of  heaven  ;  it  is 
therefore  an  honourable  and  blessed  work,  a  work, 
which  can  make  the  meanest  of  the  sons  of  men  re- 
semble, in  some  degree,  the  angels  of  God,  and  give 
him  a  foretaste  of  their  joys.  That  life  is  the  happiest, 
which  is  most  devoted  to  this  en^ployment.  That  man 
is  the  holiest  and  the  nearest  to  heaven,  who  has  the 
o^reatest  love  for  it. 

If  then  we  would  pass  through  the  world  in  holiness 
and  peace,  and  go,  when  we  leave  it,  to  a  kingdom  of 
glory,  we  must  begin  the  work  of  heaven  here  on  earth, 
and  become  the  spiritual  worshippers  and  ministering 
priests  of  the  living  God.  The  everlasting  priesthood 
of  all  the  redeemed  saints,  who  are  now  before  the 
throne  of  God,  was  begun  here.  Here  their  robes 
were  washed ;  here  their  hearts  were  cleansed ;  here 
they  were  anointed  by  the  Spirit  of  grace,  and  conse- 
crated, and  set  apart  for  God  ;  here  they  began  the 
worship  and  the  song,  which  are  now  employing  ihem 
in  heaven  ;  and  here  they  first  tasted  of  the  joy,  which 
now  fills  their  hearts.     Here  too;  if  ever  we  would  join 


40  The  Worship  and  Privileges 

their  society,  our  own  priesthood  and  worship  must 
begin;  nay,  if  we  are  really  Christians,  here  they  have 
already  bej^un.  We  are  already  come  to  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  to  the  innumerable  company  of  angels,  and 
to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first  born. 
We  have  already  shared  in  the  work  of  the  new  Jeru- 
salem, and  had  a  foretaste  of  its  happiness. 

May  the  prospect,  which  has  been  vouchsafed  to  us, 
of  the  worship  and  blessedness  of  its  temple,  animate 
us  in  the  work  we  have  begun,  and  lead  us  to  aspire 
after  a  greater  resemblance  to  its  rejoicing  inhabitants  ! 
May  it  stir  us  up  to  make  their  chief  employment  our 
own !  Praise  is  the  great  work,  which  employs  the 
saints  in  heaven,  and  ought  to  be  the  great  work  of 
the  saints  on  earth.  Our  wants  constrain  us  to  pray, 
and  it  is  our  interest  and  duty  to  pray  without  ceasing, 
but  praise  is  as  much  the  duty  of  a  priest  as  sacrifice 
or  prayer.  We  have  as  much  to  praise  God  for,  as 
we  have  to  pray  to  him  for.  Our  mercies  are,  if  possi- 
ble, more  numerous  than  our  wants.  Our  duty  tlieii 
is  plain.  It  is  the  same,  that  Saint  Paul  has  marked 
out  for  us ;  ''^  In  every  thing  give  thanks,  for  this  is 
the  will  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  concerning  you." 

The  last  reflection  suggested  to  us  by  the  text  is 
this — /low  desirable  is  death  to  the  spiritual  and  hea- 
venly-minded worshipper  of  God  !  The  temple  wc  have 
been  contemplating,  with  ail  its  holy  services  and  glo- 
rious privileges,  is  very  near  us.  Distant  as  that  world 
may  seem,  on  which  its  foundations  stand,  tlie  hand  of 
death  can  in  a  moment  place  us  in  its  courts,  and  sur- 
round us  with  its  splendours.  Who  then,  that  loves 
the  worship  of  the  Lord,  does  not  wish  to  die,  that  he 
may  go  and  appear  in  this  house  before  his  God  ?  Our 
souls  long  for  the  enjoyment  of  his  presence  even  in 
his  earthly  temples  ;  early  have  wc  sought  him  there. 


of  the  Heavenly  Temple.  4t 

and  desired  above  all  things  to  see  his  power  and  his 
glory,  as  his  saints  have  seen  them  in  his  sanctuary. 
Shall  we  then  be  unwilling  to  leave  this  world  of  tribu-  ' 
lation  and  of  sin,  that  we  may  stand  before  the  tlirone 
of  God,  serve  him  day  and  night  in  his  temple,  and 
have  God  continually  dwelling  among  us  and  the  Lamb 
feeding  us  ?  flave  we  no  desire  to  exchange  the  im- 
perfect and  polluted  worship  of  earth,  for  the  pure  ser- 
vices and  glorious  privileges  of  heaven  ?  Have  we  no 
wish  to  be  where  Abraham  and  Paul  are  worshipping? 
'  Where  David  is  singing  ?  Have  we  no  longings 
after  the  society  of  the  friends  we  loved  on  earth, 
and  who  are  waiting  for  us  to  join  their  songs  in 
heaven  ?  We  took-sweet  counsel  with  them  here  be- 
low, and  our  united  worship  often  made  our  hearts 
burn  within  us  ;  but  we  shall  derive  far  greater  joy 
from  mingling  our  praises  with  their's  in  the  land  above. 
There  will  be  no  coldness  to  disturb  our  friendship, 
nor  any  cares,  nor  anxieties,  nor  separations,  to  inter- 
rupt it.  There  will  be  no  wanderings  in  our  united 
prayers,  no  deadness  of  spirit,  no  faltering  tongues  in 
our  praises.  The  meanest  redeemed  sinner,  that  enters 
the  temple  which  has  received  their  souls  will  sing  a 
louder  and  a  sweeter  song,  than  the  brightest  archangel 
there.  The  angels  have  never  tasted  of  pardoning  grace 
and  redeeming  love.  They  may  say,  *^  Worthy  is  the 
Lamb  that  was  slain  ;"  but  they  cannot  say,  "  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain yor  z/j."  They  cannot  say, 
"  Salvation  to  our  God,  which  sitteth  upon  the  throne, 
and  unto  the  Lamb."  Thev  cannot  sino-  this  sons:  of 
the  redeemed ;  "'  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed 
us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  made  us 
kings  and  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father,  to  him  be 
glory  and  dominion  fcr  ever  and  ever." 

F 


SERMON  III. 


THE  DYING  CHRISTIAN  CO.MMl'miNG  HIS 
SOUL  TO  GOD. 


—  OIJOUOOOO- 


rsALM  xxxj.  ry. 

Into  thine  hand  I  commit  my  sjiirit ;  tliou  hast  redeemed  mc,  O  Lord 
God  of  truth. 


X  HESE  words  were  spoken  by  David  in  an  hour  ot 
trouble.  His  enemies  were  seeking  to  destroy  him  ;  he 
knew  that  his  life  was  in  danger ;  and  he  here  flies  for 
refuge  to  his  God.  He  commits  his  spirit,  his  life,  into 
his  hands,  in  the  full  persuasion  that  the  same  power 
and  goodness,  which  had  often  redeemed  and  rescued 
him  before,  would  rescue  him  again,  and  uphold  and 
preserve  him. 

The  words  of  the  text  then  were  originally  the  words 
of  an  afflicted  saint,  committing  his  natural  life  to  the 
care  and  disposal  of  his  God.  We  shall  however,  be 
doing  no  violence  to  them,  if  we  consider  them  as  tl^.e 
language  of  a  dying  Christian,  commending  his  immor- 
tal soul  to  his  heavenly  Father.  We  know  that  they 
were  thus  regarded  by  Christ,  for  he  made  them  his 
last,  his  dying  prayer.  Before  he  gave  up  the  gliost,  he 
cried  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I 
commend  my  spirit."  His  martyr  Stephen  too  viewed 
these  words  in  the  same  light,  and  fell  asleep  with  them 
in  his  mouth.  Thousands  of  Christians  also  have  been 
heard  to  utter  them  on  the  bed  of  death.     When  flesh 


The  Dying  Christian.  &c.  43 

and  heart  have  failed,  they  have  taken  them   as  their 
support  and  their  strength,  their  prayer  and  their  song. 

Viewing  the  words  of  the  psalmist  in  this  sacred 
light,  they  may  lead  us  to  enquire,  Jii'st,  with  whom 
the  dying  Christian  wishes  to  entrust  his  soul;  secondhj^ 
what  is  implied  in  his  committing  his  soul  into  the  hand 
of  God ;  and,  thirdly,  what  warrant  or  encouragement 
he  has  thus  to  entrust  it  to  him. 

I.  With  whom  then  does  the  dying  Christian  wish 
to  entrust  his  soul  ?  The  text  tells  us  that  he  is  anxious 
to  commit  it  into  the  hand  of  God. 

There  are  only  two  beings,  who  can  take  charge  of 
the  soul  when  it  leaves  the  body.  The  one  is  the  Lord 
of  glory  ;  the  other  is  the  prince  of  darkness.  Into  the 
hands  of  one  of  these  beings,  our  souls  must  go  when 
we  die  ;  and  with  one  of  these  we  must  spend  eternity. 

Now  mankind  in  general  manifest  the  greatest  indif- 
ference towards  both  of  these  beings  ;  or  if  they  are  not 
altogether  indifferent  towards  them,  they  have  no  deep, 
no  abiding  concern  about  them.  They  hope  that  when 
they  die  their  souls  will  go  to  God,  and  they  profess  to 
have  a  fear  of  sinking  into  the  dwelling-place  of  Satan  ; 
but  of  what  nature  are  these  hopes  and  fears  ?  They  do 
not  touch  their  affections ;  they  do  not  influence  their 
conduct.  They  feel  and  act,  not  as  creatures  full  of 
hopes  and  fears  about  eternity,  but  as  creatures  who 
have  nothing  to  do  with  eternity ;  who  are  equally  in- 
different about  God  and  Satan,  equally  regardless  of 
heaven  and  of  hell.  We  are  troubled  and  concerned 
about  our  bodies,  anxious  to  secure  them  from  every 
trifling  inconvenience  and  danger ;  but  as  for  our 
souls,  we  care  not  how  we  endanger  them,  nor  into 
whose  hands  they  fall. 

If  we  were  really  Christians,  brethren,  this  indiffcr- 


44?  The  Dying  Chrhiiau 

ence  would  pass  away.  The  soul  would  become  trem- 
blingly alive  to  its  present  condition,  and  full  of  the 
liveliest  hopes  and  fears  about  its  future  destiny.  It 
uould  make  an  immediate  choice  between  God  and 
Satan.  It  would  feel  the  greatest  abhorrence  of  the  one 
and  his  dreary  kingdom,  and  as  deep  and  fervent  a  de- 
sire for  the  other  and  his  glory.  It  would  fly  for  safety 
to  its  God;  and  cast  itself  into  his  gracious  hands. 
Hence  through  life  all  our  hope  and  confidence  would 
be  placed  in  the  Almighty ;  all  our  desires  would  cen- 
tre in  him  :  and  in  death  it  would  be  the  same.  Our 
first  fear  would  be,  lest  our  soul  should  take  its  flight 
to  the  dwellings  of  Satan  ;  our  highest  hope,  that  it  may 
be  lodged  and  find  shelter  in  the  bosom  of  its  God. 
This  dread  of  hell,  this  longing  after  heaven,  would  re- 
quire renewed  energy  as  we  drew  nearer  the  grave  and 
eternity ;  and  when  at  length  our  dying  hour  approached, 
with  what  an  earnest  desire  should  we  long  to  be  in  our 
Father's  hands  !  not  in  his  kingaom  merely,  not  in  his 
temple  only,  but  in  his  hands,  in  his  arms,  in  his  bo- 
som !  Wiih  what  an  energy  of  feeling  should  we  say, 
with  a  dying  Saviour,  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  com- 
mend my  spirit !" 

II.  The  God  of  heaven  then  is  the  Being,  with  whom 
the  Christian  wishes  to  entrust  his  soul.  What  there- 
fore is  implied  in  his  committing  his  spirit  into  his 
hands  in  a  dying  hour? 

1.  There  is  evidently  implied  in  this  act  of  faith  c 
firm  persuasion  that  his  spirit  will  outlive  his  body,  that 
it  is  an  immortal  spirit.  U  the  soul  did  not  survive  the 
body,  or  if  the  Christian  had  not  a  firm  persuasion  that 
it  survived  it,  it  would  be  but  a  mockery  of  God  to 
profess  to  commit  it  into  his  hands.  Before  this  profes- 
sion can  be  sincere,  there  must  be  in  the  mind  a  full 


committing  his  Soul  to  God.  45 

conviction  of  its  own  immortality  ;  not  that  feeble  hope 
of  it,  which  is  drawn  from  reason,  nor  yet  that  common 
belief  of  it,  which  professes  to  be  founded  on  the  Bible  ; 
but  a  heart-felt  belief  and  conviction  of  it.  The  soul 
must  not  only  know,  but  feel  itself  to  be  immortal.  It 
must  have  no  more  doubt  of  the  fact,  than  it  has  of  its 
own  existence. 

The  Christian  is  not  brought  to  this  sense  of  the 
lendless  duration  of  his  soul  by  the  light  of  nature,  nor 
by  a  long  train  of  reasoning.  These  may  satisfy  a 
merely  speculative  enquirer,  but  they  can  never  satisfy 
the  man,  who  is  alive  to  the  importance  of  eternity,  and 
makes  it  the  subject  of  his  hopes  and  fears,  as.  well  as 
of  his  enquiries.  Death  and  the  grave  laugh  to  scorn 
what  man  calls  natural  religion.  There  corruption  per- 
forms her  work  in  triumph ;  and  he,  who  rejects  the 
Bible,  must  look  on  and  despair.  It  is  the  gospel  only, 
which  brings  life  and  immortality  to  light,  and  it  is  by 
an  honest  belief  in  the  gospel,  that  the  Christian  first 
learns  to  regard  himself  as  the  heir  of  eternity.  As  he 
grows  in  faith  and  in  grace,  this  conviction  is  strength- 
ened and  established  by  the  experience  of  his  own 
heart,  till  at  length  he  has  a  witness  of  its  truth  within 
him,  and  tastes  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come. 

2.  In  committing  the  soul  to  God  in  a  dying  hour, 
there  is  implied,  secondly,  a  high  value  for  the  soul,  a 
regarding  of  every  thing  else  as  worthless,  when  put  in 
competition  with  it.  Not  that  it  is  sinful  to  feel,  when 
we  are  about  to  die,  some  degree  of  concern  about  our 
.  bodies.  Nature  will  often  prevail  even  here,  and  cause 
our  poor  dust  and  ashes  to  become  objects  of  our  care. 
But  then,  if  we  are  really  Christians,  this  care  for  our 
bodies  will  be  as  nothing,  when  compared  with  our 
concern  for  our  souls.  Whether  we  are  buried  here  or 


46  The  Dying  Christian 

there,  whether  our  bones  moulder  away  in  this  grave 
or  that,  are  points  of  but  little  interest.  Where  will  my 
soul  be  lodged  ?  in  hell  or  in  heaven  ?  with  Satan  or 
with  God  ?  This  is  the  great  subject  of  the  dying 
Christian's  enquiries.  His  soul  is  his  treasure,  and  it  is 
his  main  solicitude  and  care  to  have  that  safe  in  the 
hands  of  his  God.  He  does  not,  it  is  true,  wish  to  lose 
the  casket ;  he  would  rather  have  it  preserved;  but  as 
for  the  jewel,  that  must  be  saved. 

3.  There  is  also  implied  in  this  expression  a  lively 
sense  of  the  serious  and  awful  nature  of  death,  a  con- 
viction of  our  need  of  support  and  protection  in  a  dy- 
ing hour.  This  is  an  hour,  my  brethren,  from  which 
nature  shrinks  with  fear  and  trembling.  The  grave  and 
the  worm  are  appalling  to  the  heart,  and  fill  it  with 
fearful  apprehensions.  Through  fear  of  death,  thou- 
sands are  all  their  life-time  subject  to  bondage.  From 
this  undue  degree  of  fear  the  Christian  is  delivered. 
The  terrors  of  the  grave  are  so  touched  by  the  conso- 
lations of  the  gospel,  that  they  lose  their  power  to  harass 
and  affright.  But  still,  even  to  the  Christian,  it  is  a  se- 
rious, a  solemn  thing  to  die.  There  are  a  thousand 
things  connected  with  death,  which  clothe  it  with  awful 
importance.  Some  indeed,  who  have  made  a  profession 
of  religion,  have  thought  it  a  mark  of  a  high  degree  of 
grace  to  make  light  of  this  last  enemy  of  man ;  but 
there  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  Bible  would  call  this 
boasted  grace  a  high  degree  of  insensibility  or  of  folly. 
No  man  will  think  lightly  of  death,  who  has  ever 
thought  himself  near  death.  Let  sickness  and  disease, 
let  that  dreadful  weakness  and  sinking,  which  generally 
precede  death,  once  touch  his  frame,  and  he  will  feel 
that  he  needs  an  almiglity  arm  to  support  and  strengthen 
him.  The  soul,  in  such  an  hour,  will  cling  more  closely 


Gommitting  his  Soul  to  God.  4^ 

to  its  God.  There  may  be  faith ;  there  may  be  hope 
and  joy;  there  may  be  the  language  of  David? 
"  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  I  will  fear  no  evil;"  but  there  will  still  be  the 
language  of  prayer ;  "  Leave  me  not,  neither  forsake 
me,  O  God  of  my  salvation." 

4.  There  is  implied,  lastly,  in  committing  the  soul 
to  God,  a  belief  that  God  is  willing  to  receive  the  soul, 
as  well  as  able  to  protect  it.  There  must  be  a  sense  of 
reconciling,  pardoning  love  in  the  heart,  before  we  can 
in  good  earnest  commend  our  souls  to  God  in  our  dy- 
ing moments.  There  must  have  been  a  previous  ac- 
quainrance  with  him  as  a  God  in  Christ ;  as  a  God  par- 
doning iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin ;  as  a  God,  who 
is  our  covenant  God,  our  reconciled  Father,  our  mighty 
Redeemer.  Hence  it  is,  that  to  a  dying  saint  the  cross 
of  Christ  seems  so  precious.  He  no  more  dares  to  cast 
himself  into  the  hand  of  God  without  looking  to  the 
atoning  sacrifice  of  his  Son,  than  he  dares  approach  a 
consuming  fire.  But  when  he  sees  the  infinite  worth 
of  that  atonement,  when  he  thinks  of  the  all-prevailing 
efficacy  of  that  sacrifice,  he  is  enabled  to  say  with  hum- 
ble confidence,  "Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit." 

III.  But  what  encouragement,  what  warrant  has  the 
Christian  thus  to  commit  his  soul  into  the  hand  God  ? 
This  is  our  third  enquiry,  and  the  text  answers  it ; 
"  Thou  hast  redeemed  me,  O  Lord  God  of  truth." 

1.  The  psalmist  here  tells  us,  first,  that  God  is  the 
Christianas  Redeemer,  that  he  has  purchased  his  soul, 
acquired  a  property  in  it,  and  made  it  his  own.  The 
souls  of  all  men,  are  in  one  sense,  the  property  of  God, 
They  are  his  by  creation.  But  man  makes  himself  ovti 
by  sin  to  another  lord  ;  he  goes  into  voluntary  captiviu 
to  Satan,  and  becomes  his  property  and  his  slave.  Thi*^ 


48  The  Dying  Christian 

is  the  natural  state  of  all  men,  and  this  was  once  the 
state  of  the  servants  of  God  5  but  they  have  now  been 
delivered  from  this  state  of  bondage.  The  Father  of 
their  spirits  has  paid  the  price  of  their  freedom ;  and 
hence  he  has  acquired  a  more  endearing  claim  to  them, 
than  he  had  before.  He  is  now  their  Redeemer,  no 
common  redeemer,  paying  a  common  price  for  their 
ransom,  redeeming  them  with  corruptible  things  such 
as  silver  and  gold  ;  but  a  Redeemer,  who  has  paid  for 
them  a  price  more  costly  than  all  the  riches  of  the  uni- 
verse, even  the  precious  blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb 
without  blemish  and  without  spot. 

We  know  not  the  reasons,  which  led  the  Almighty 
to  purchase  so  worthless  a  people  at  so  costly  a  price  ; 
but  we  know  that  he  has  thus  dearly  purchased  them ; 
that  he  gave  up  for  a  season  the  richest  treasure  in  hea- 
ven, that  he  might  have  a  people  upon  earth  to  shew  forth 
his  praise.  This  wonderful  display  of  divine  love  is  our 
encouragement  to  commit  our  souls  to  God  in  the 
hour  of  death.  "  O  Lord,"  the  dying  Christian  may 
say,  "  I  am  thine  ;  save  me.  I  am  not  only  thine  by 
creation,  but  thine  by  purchase  ;  thou  hast  bought  me 
with  a  price.  True,  I  am  vile  and  worthless,  but  thou 
hast  redeemed  me;  and  wilt  thou  refuse  to  take  the 
wretched  soul,  which  thou  hast  ransomed  ?  Wilt  thou 
cast  away  that,  for  which  thou  hast  paid  so  dear  ?  Shall 
that,  which  the  blood  of  thine  own  Son  has  purchased, 
be  despised  ?  O  Lord,  thou  hast  redeemed  me ;  and 
into  thy  hand  I  will  commit  my  spirit." 

2.  The  second  ground  of  encouragement  mentioned 
in  the  text  is  the  faithfulness  of  God.  He  is  here  cha- 
racterised as  the  *'  God  of  truth,"  as  ohc  fliithful  to  his 
word  and  engagements.  This  expression  sends  us  back 
to  some  previous  transaction  between  God  and  the 


committing  his  Soul  to  God.  49 

Christian's  soul ;  to  some  promise  or  pledge,  which 
Jehovah  has  given  to  him,  and  which  his  faithfulness 
constrains  him  to  regard.  It  reminds  us  of  that  pro- 
mise and  covenant,  by  which  the  Almighty  graciously 
binds  himself  to  cast  out  no  guilty  sinner,  who  comes 
to  him  through  his  Son  ;  to  pardon  the  sins  of  every 
contrite  believer  in  his  blood  ;  to  take  him  as  his  child  ; 
to  receive  his  soul  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  to  save  it 
in  the  day  of  judgment.  As  soon  as  the  sinner  once 
embraces  by  faith  the  offered  mercy  of  the  gospel,  these 
promises  become  his  own,  as  much  his  own  as  though 
they  were  immediately  addressed  to  him  from  the 
throne  of  God.  Will  the  Lord  then  fail  to  make  good 
the  words  of  his  lips  ?  Will  the  God  of  truth  forget 
the  promises  of  his  covenant  in  those  awful  seasons, 
when  the  fulfilment  of  them  is  most  needed  ?  Is  he  a 
man,  that  he  should  lie ;  or  the  son  of  man,  that  he 
should  repent  ?  No.  *'  The  Lord  thy  God,"  says  the 
prophet,  *'  he  is  God,  the  faithful  God,  which  keepeth 
covenant  and  mercy,  with  them  that  love  him."  When 
he  sees  a  trembling  sinner,  whom  he  has  redeemed 
and  whom  he  has  engaged  to  save ;  when  he  sees  him, 
in  the  fearful  hour  of  death,  come  to  him  with  all  the 
confidence  of  a  child  desiring  to  cast  itself  into  a  pa- 
rent's bosom,  he  cannot  refuse  to  receive  such  a  sup- 
plicant ;  he  cannot  hesitate  to  take  the  treasure,  which 
he  wishes  to  commit  to  his  hands.  A  message  of  love 
shall  be  sent  down  from  heaven  to  that  sinner's  heart. 
He  shall  hear  a  voice  saying  to  him  in  the  bitterness 
of  death,  "  Fear  not,  I  have  redeemed  thee.  Thou  art 
mine." 

The  subject,  which  we  have  thus  briefly  considered, 
may  remind  us,  first,  of  the  great  value  of  Christian 
faith^  its  value,  not  merely  as  it  saves  the  soul  from 

G 


50  The  Bijlng  Christian 

everlasting  destruction,  but  as  it  saves  it  from  fear  and 
despair  in  a  dying  hour.  We  must  all  die,  my  bre- 
thren, and  those  of  us,  who  have  felt  much  of  weakness 
and  sickness,  know  that  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  die. 
Others  may  for  a"  season  thirtk  lightly  of  dcatli,  but  the 
hour  will  come,  when  we  shall  be  all  agreed  on  this 
pointt,  that  the  soul  of  a  dying  sinner  needs  comfort 
and  support.  Now  a  simple,  honest,  heart-felt  belief 
in  the  gospel  can  bring  this  support  and  comfort  to 
the  soul ;  it  can  make  the  pillow  of  a  death- bed 
easy  ;  it  can  do  for  a  dying  sinner  many  sweet  offi- 
ces, which  nothing  else  can  do  for  him  ;  and  enable 
him  to  die  as  peacefully,  as  the  wearied  labourer  lays 
down  his  head  to  sleep.  This  is  the  same  faith,  that 
first  leads  the  sinner  to  flee  for  refuge  to  the  Saviour, 
that  afterwards  purifies  his  heart  and  regulates  his  life. 
It  is  that  faith,  which  is  the  gift  of  God,  and  which 
must  be  sought  for  and  obtained  by  humble,  fervent 
prayer.  It  is  a  gift,  which  can  make  the  most  sinful 
man  holy ;  the  most  wretched  man  happy  ;  the  most 
needy  man  rich.  It  can  save  the  vilest  sinner  from  de- 
struction, and  carry  his  soul  in  triumph  to  the  temple  of 
his  God. 

Here  too  in  the  text  is  a  source  of  comfort  under  the 
loss  of  friends.  Our  friends  may  have  been  wrested 
from  us  by  the  hand  of  death  :  they  may  have  been 
taken  from  our  arms  ;  but  if  they  are  the  redeemed  of 
the  Lord,  where  are  they  now  ?  In  the  arms  and  in 
the  bosom  of  their  God.  And  are  they  not  better 
there,  than  in  such  a  world  as  this  ?  Are  they  not  hap- 
pier with  God,  than  they  could  be  with  us  ?  O  if  a 
wish  could  bring  them  back  again  to  the  scene  of  their 
former  cares,  and  pains,  and  troubles,  would  you  dare 
to  offer  it  ?  Would  you  dare  to  bring  their  glorified 


committing  Ids  Soul  to  God,  5i 

spirits  from  that  fulness  of  joy,  which  is  at  God's  right 
hand,  to  that  state  of  sorrow  and  tribulation,  in  which 
you  are  struggling?  O  no  !  Rejoice  then  that  they  are 
gone  to  God.  If  you  could  but  know  all^their  blessed- 
ness, your  tears  of  sorrow  would  be  turned  into  tears 
of  joy.  You  would  take  down  your  harps  from  the 
willows  whereon  you  have  hung  them,  and  sing  a  loud, 
and  fervent,  and  lasting  song  of  gratitude  and  love. 

We  may  draw  another  inference  from  the  words  be- 
fore us.  If  the  believer  may  safely  commit  his  soul 
into  the  hands  of  God,  /20W  confidently  may  he  commit 
into  the  same  hands  all  other  things  !  It  is  a  strange 
fact,  my  brethren,  tliat  some  among  us,  who  seem  to 
trust  God  for  the  salvation  of  their  souls  and  for  the  con- 
cerns of  eternity,  have  not  yet  learned  to  trust  him  for 
the  preservation  of  their  bodies  and  the  concerns  of 
this  mortal  life.  They  live  too  much  by  sense,  and  too 
little  by  faith,  and  hence  proceeds  that  unbelief,  which 
brings  so  much  care,  so  many  harassing  anxieties,  and 
so  much  sin  into  their  souls.  We  should  struggle 
against  this  unbelief;  we  should  mourn  over  it;  and 
liumble  ourselves  on  account  of  it.  We  should  en- 
deavour to  trust  God  as  implicitly  for  time,  as  we  do 
for  eternity.  Can  we  commit  our  souls  into  his  hands, 
and  yet  refuse  to  trust  him  with  our  hves,  our  com- 
forts, our  children,  and  our  families  ?  He  has  not  only 
said,  "  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved;"  but  he  has 
also  said,  "  Thy  bread  shall  be  given  thee,  and  thy 
water  shall  be  sure."  He  has  written  this  plain  decla- 
ration in  our  Bibles  ;  "  All  things  work  together  for 
good  to  them,  that  love  God,  to  them,  that  are  the 
called  according  to  his  purpose." 

We  are  taught,  lastly,  by  the  words  of  the  text,  the 
great  importance  of  our  becoming  noxv  the  redeemed  of ' 


52  The  Dying  Christian 

the  Lord.  We  all  need  this  redemption.  A  very  little 
acquaintance  with  the  Bible  and  our  own  hearts  would 
convince  us,  that  we  are  not  in  that  state,  in  which,  as 
immortal  and  accountable  creatures,  we  ought  to  be  ; 
that  some  great  change  must  take  place  in  our  state 
and  character,  before  we  can  be  happy  with  God.  It 
is  the  gospel  of  Christ  only,  which  can  effect  this 
change.  In  the  redemption  proposed  to  sinners  in  this 
gospel,  the  ground  of  our  peace  in  death  and  our  hope 
in  eternity  must  be  laid.  If  we  arc  not  made  partakers 
of  this  redemption,  we  may  profess  on  the  bed  of  death 
to  commit  our  souls  into  the  hand  of  God,  but  he  will 
spurn  the  oiFering.  The  soul  indeed  must  fall  into  the 
hands  of  God  as  a  judge  and  an  avenger,  but  it  must 
go  into  other  hands  for  it  wages  and  reward.  If  we 
serve  the  Devil  here,  my  brethren,  no  matter  how  de- 
cently and  decorously  we  serve  him,  we  must  live  with 
him  and  suffer  with  him  in  another  world.  Our  souls 
may  have  what  our  neighbours  may  call  a  happy  release 
from  the  body  ;  our  dust  may  be  honoured  by  as  pom- 
pous and  splendid  a  funeral,  as  folly  and  pride  can  fur- 
nish ;  but  our  souls  will  perish.  We  shall  go  from 
death  to  judgment,  and  from  judgment  to  a  world  of 
anguish.  O  then  who  would  not  seek  redemption 
now  ?  There  is  no  safety,  no  hope,  no  salvation  with- 
out it.  Every  unredeemed  sinner  will  be  a  lost  sinner. 
But  where  is  this  redemption  to  be  found  ?  No 
prayers,  nor  tears,  nor  fancied  works  of  goodness  can 
purchase  it.  The  most  decent  and  righteous  are  as 
unable  to  pay  the  price  of  it,  as  the  most  profane  and 
sinful.  It  is  treasured  up  in  Christ,  and  must  be  sought 
for  at  his  cross.  There  all,  who  would  have  it,  must 
seek  it ;  there  all,  who  seek  it  with  an  humble  and  con- 
trite heart,  shall  obtain  it,  and  with  it  all  the  riches  of 


committing  his  Soul  to  God.  53 

grace  and  all  the  treasures  of  glory.  **  Ho,  every  one 
that  thirsteth,"  says  the  Saviour,  who  has  the  disposal 
of  this  great  salvation,  '^  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and 
ke  that  hath  no  money  :  come  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea, 
come,  buy  wine  and  milk  without  money  and  without 
price.  Incline  your  ear  and  come  unto  me  ;  hear,  and 
your  soul  shall  live ;  and  I  will  make  an  everlasting 
covenant  with  you,  even  the  sure  mercies  of  David." 


SEHMON  lY. 


'HIE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REMEJVIBERING 
CHRIST. 


ST.  liUKE  xxii.  19. 

This  do  m  remembrance  of  vie. 


I  O  be  remembered  when  we  are  dead  by  those  whom 
we  love,  seems  to  be  one  of  the  strongest  desires,  that 
nature  has  implanted  in  our  hearts.  Hence,  when  we 
are  about  to  die,  tokens  of  affection  are  given  and  be- 
queathed to  our  friends  ;  and  after  our  death,  our 
graves  are  preserved,  and  memorials  erected  to  per- 
petuate our  names.  Neither  is  there  any  thing  sinful 
in  this  wish.  Jesus  himself  felt  and  indulged  it. 
When  he  took  his  last  flirewell  of  the  beloved  disci- 
ples, who  had  been  his  companions  upon  earth,  we 
find  him  anxious  that  they  should  not  forget  him,  and 
instituting  a  memorial  of  his  dying  love.  "  He  took 
bread,  and  gave  thanks,  and  brake  it,  and  gave  unto 
them,  saying,  '  This  is  my  body,  which  is  given  for 
you  ;  this  do  in  remembrance  of  me.'" 

Neither  was  it  by  his  first  disciples  only,  that  Jesus 
wished  to  be  remembered.  He  still  desires  to  live  in 
the  memory  and  hearts  of  all  his  people,  and  says  to 
each  of  us  this  very  day  in  his  word  and  in  his  ordinan- 
ces, <'  Remember  me."  O  then  let  us  keep  this 
dying  request  of  Jesus  ever  in  our  minds,  and  strive  to 
embalm  him  in  our  hearts ! 


The  Advantages  of^  &€.  r}5 

To  assist  us  in  this  work  of  gratitude  and  love,  let  us 
enquire, ^r*;,  what  is  implied  in  remembering  Christ ; 
secondly/,  why  he  has  left  us  this  command  to  remember 
him  ;  and  thirdlt/,  what  are  the  benefits  resulting  to 
ourselves  from  an  habitual  remembrance  of  him. 

I.  We  are  to  enquire,  first,  what  is  implied  in  re- 
membering Christ. 

1.  There  is  evidently  implied  in  this  remembrance 
a  knowledge  ofhim^  a  previous  acquaintance  with  him. 
We  cannot  be  called  upon  to  remember  an  object,  with 
which  we  are  altogether  unacquainted,  or  a  person, 
whom  we  never  knew.  Neither  can  we  with  any  pro- 
priety be  said  to  remember  Christ,  till  we  have  m  some 
degree  become  acquainted  with  him,  seen  his  excel- 
lency,  and  admired  his  loveliness. 

Nor  is  it  a  superficial  knowledge  of  the  Saviour,  that 
will  lead  us  to  an  habitual  remembrance  of  him.  It 
is  the  friend,  whom  we  have  known  intimately_,  that 
lives  in  our  memory,  while  the  mere  acquaintance  is 
soon  forgotten.  We  must  therefore  not  only  have 
heard  and  read  of  Christ,  but  have  often  had  him  be- 
fore us.  We  must  have  been,  as  it  were,  in  his  so- 
ciety, and  tasted  the  sweets  of  friendship  and  commu- 
nion with  him.  He  must  have  occupied  much  of  our 
thoughts,  have  entered  into  our  hearts,  and  been  lodg;ed 
in  the  deepest  recesses  of  our  minds. 

2.  Hence  to  remember  Christ  implies,  secondly,  a 
heart-felt  love  for  him.  Who  are  the  persons,  whom 
we  remember?  Those,  whom  we  love.  It  is  the  de- 
parted parent  and  child,  the  lost  husband  and  wife, 
whose  memory  we  love  to  preserve,  and  over  whose 
graves  we  can  still  weep.  Thus,  if  we  would  remem- 
ber a  dying  Saviour,  we  must  first  learn  to  love  him  * 
to  love  him  not  with  a  cold  veneration   and   regard 


56  The  Adva?itages  of 

merely,  but  ulth  a  lively,  heart-felt,  tender  affection ; 
with  a  love,  which  will  make  us  often  think  of  him, 
often  talk  of  him,  pray  to  him,  and  praise  him.  We 
ipust  love  him  as  that  poor  woman  loved  him,  who 
washed  his  feet  with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them  with  the 
hairs  of  her  head ;  as  that  noble  Paul  loved  him,  who 
counted  all  things  but  loss  that  he  might  win  him, 
and  who  could  stand  up  among  weeping  friends,  and 
say,  *'  I  am  ready  not  to  be  bound  only,  but  also  to 
die  for  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 

3.  Hence  to  remember  Christ  implies  also  a  fre- 
quent and  affectionate  recalling  of  him  to  our  minds. 
We  are  not  merely  to  recollect  him  and  think  of  him> 
when  we  hear  others  speak  of  him,  and  when  we  are 
in  his  house  or  at  his  table  ;  we  are  to  maintain  an 
habitual  remembrance  of  him  ;  to  carry  him  constantly 
about  with  us  in  our  hearts  wherever  we  go  ;  to  have 
him  as  our  companion  in  all  our  employments,  our 
pleasures,  our  sorrows,  and  our  cares. 

This  remembrance  too  must  be  affectionate  ;  it  must 
interest  the  feelings  and  touch  the  heart.  It  will  not 
indeed  always  affect  us  in  the  same  degree,  for  Ave  are 
not  always  equally  susceptible  of  the  same  tender  im- 
pressions. The  heart  even  of  the  established  Chris- 
tian is  often  cold  and  dead,  so  dead  that  nothing  seems 
to  have  power  to  move  it ;  but  even  in  its  coldest  sea- 
sons, a  thought  of  Jesus  will  sometimes  warm  and  en- 
liven it.  The  remembrance  of  his  dying  love-  seems 
to  restore  the  soul  to  its  wonted  feeling,  and  to  re-ani- 
mate its  lifeless  powers.  There  are  seasons  in  the 
Christian's  life,  in  which  the  name  of  Jesus  comes  to 
his  heart  like  a  live  coal  from  the  altar,  and  brings  with 
it  a  warmth,  a  feeling,  and  a  joy,  which  an  angel  might 
come  doAvn  from  heaven  to  share. 


Rememhering  Christ,  57 

Without  some  degree  of  this  affection,  our  remem- 
brance of  Christ,  however  frequent,  is  an  empty,  for- 
mal thing.  It  is  no  criterion  of  sincere  love  to  him,  and 
proves  nothing  as  to  our  character.  The  faithful  wife, 
when  she  thinks  of  a  luisband  in  the  grave,  does  not 
think  of  him  with  cold  indifference.  A  tender  parent 
does  not  think  unmoved  of  the  mouldering  corpse  of 
a  beloved  child.  Religion  must  be  tasted  and  felt, 
brethren,  or  it  is  nothing  worth.  If  it  does  not  get 
into  our  affections,  it  will  never  save  our  souls. 

To  remember  Christ  then  implies  a  previous  ac- 
quaintance with  him,  a  heart-felt  love  for  him,  and  a 
frequent  and  affectionate  recalling  of  him  to  our  minds. 
But  who  is  there  among  us,  that  thus  remembers  his 
Saviour?  And  yet  if  we  do  not  in  some  degree  thus 
remember  him,  we  can  have  no  reason  to  think  that 
we  are  in  the  number  of  his  children,  but  every  reason 
to  fear  that  we  are  as  yet  ignorant  of  his  salvation.  If 
we  feel  for  the  dying  Jesus  in  the  same  way  only,  as 
we  feel  for  the  death  of  a  common  acquaintance  or  a 
man,  who  is  almost  a  stranger  to  us,  we  can  surely 
draw  no  other  conclusion,  than  that  we  are  equally  un- 
connected with  him,  equally  estranged  from  him. 

II.  Let  us  proceed  to  enquire,  secondly,  why  Christ 
has  left  us  this  command  to  remember  him. 

I.  He  has  done  this  for  a  reason,  which  ought  to 
humble  us  in  the  dust.  He  has  said,  "■  Remember 
me,"  because  he  knows  that  we  are  prone  to  forget  him. 
It  might  indeed  have  been  supposed  that  such  a  Sa- 
viour could  never  for  one  hour,  no  nor  yet  for  one  mo- 
ment, have  been  out  of  a  dying  sinner's  mind  ;  that  his 
last  thoughts  in  the  evening  and  his  first  thoughts  in 
the  morning  would  be  sweet  thoughts  of  Christ ;  but 
is  it  so  with  us,  brethren  ?  Alas;  no !  There  is  reason 

H 


58  The  Jklvantages  of 

to  fear  that  many  of  us  seldom  or  never  tliink  of  Christ 
at  all,  unless  when  we  are  reminded  ofliim  on  the  sab- 
bath in  his  house.  We  do  not  indeed  endeavour,  nor 
perhaps  wish  to  forget  him  at  other  times ;  but  our 
heads  and  hearts  are  too  full  of  other  things  to  leave 
room  for  Christ  or  God  to  enter  into  them.  The  cares 
and  business  of  the  world  occupy  all  the  energies  of 
some  among  us,  and  dissipations  and  amusements  en- 
gross the  trifling  minds  of  others.  And  how  is  it  with 
those,  who  have  begun  in  some  degree  to  think  and 
act  as  rational  and  immortal  beings  ?  Are  not  their 
hearts  also  ever  ready  to  turn  aside  to  vanity  ?  Even 
they  can  often  sufier  the  meanest  trifles  to  intrude  into 
the  place  of  a  dying  Jesus  :  and  when  they  have  any 
devout  and  lively  remembrance  of  his  love,  it  is  but  for 
a  moment ;  the  savour  of  it  is  soon  gone,  and  lightness 
and  vanity  succeed. 

What  a  cause  for  humiliation  is  here  !  Why  do  wc 
not  all  condemn  and  abhor  ourselves  for  this  base  in- 
gratitude ?  When  we  have  buried  a  friend  whom  wc 
love,  though  he  is  no  better  than  a  creature  formed  of 
dust,  we  carry  him  about  in  our  hearts,  and  every  thing, 
which  disturbs  our  remembrance  of  him,  is  for  a  long 
season  sickening  to  the  soul ;  and  yet  Jesus,  our  best 
and  heavenly  friend,  is  forgotten ;  his  agony  and 
bloody  sweat,  his  cross  and  passion,  and  all  he  has 
done  and  suffered  for  our  souls,  can  find  no  abiding 
lodging- place  in  our  remembrance.  What  reason  for 
shame  is  here,  and  what  a  call  for  prayer !  Nor  is  this 
all :  here  is  a  warning  also.  Am  1  thus  prone  basely 
to  forget  my  Saviour  ?  O  then  let  me  fly  from  every 
scene,  from  every  society,  from  every  pursuit,  which 
has  a  tendency  to  lead  my  thoughts  from  him.  Let 
me  remember  this  infirmity  of  my  sinful  heart,  and 


Remembering  Christ,  59 

watch  and  pray  against  it,  mourn  over  it,  and  dread  to 
increase  it. 

2.  But  our  proneness  to  forget  Christ  is  not  the  only 
reason,  why  he  has  commanded  us  to  remember  him. 
He  has  given  us  this  command,  secondly,  because  he 
desires  to  be  remembered  by  us.  True,  he  is  now  in 
the  very  highest  heavens,  seated  on  a, throne  raised  to 
an  immeasurable  height  above  the  thrones  of  angels, 
with  all  the  exalted  spirits,  that  fill  the  realms  of  glory, 
worshipping  at  his  footstool ;  and  yet  his  eye  is  fixed 
on  a  people  on  the  earth,  and  his  soul  is  as  mindful  of 
them  as  when  he  groaned  for  them  in  the  garden,  or 
bled  for  them  on  the  cross.  Unworthy  as  they  are,  he 
loves  them ;  mean  as  they  arc,  he  is  not  ashamed  still 
to  wear  their  form  and  to  call  them  brethren.  He  for- 
gets the  songs  of  angels  to  listen  to  their  sighs  and  pray- 
ers. It  is  his  delight  to  minister  to  their  wants  to  pro- 
tect them  in  their  dangers,  and  to  comfort  them  in 
their  sorrows.  Yea,  even  when  they  forget  him,  he 
thinks  on  them ;  he  watches  over  and  pities  them,  when 
they  are  turning  aside  to  vanity,  and  as  soon  as  they 
have  tasted  the  bitterness  of  their  wanderings,  he  re- 
storeth  their  soul,  and  leadeth  them  again  in  the  paths 
of  righteousness  for  his  name's  sake.  Now  he  does 
this,  and  more  than  this,  for  his  people,  simply  be- 
cause he  loves  them ;  and  if  he  thus  loves  them,  he 
would  not  surely  be  forgotten  by  them.  By  his  word 
and  ordinances  he  tells  them  tliat  he  would  not,  and 
urges  them  to  think  of  him.  What  a  stoop  then  is  this 
for  such  a  Being  to  make ;  and  what  an  honour  is  here 
conferred  on  creatures,  such  as  we !  How  ought  it  to 
elevate  our  affections  and  excite  our  love !  Shall  he, 
who  made  the  worlds,  desire  to  be  remembered  by  us, 
and  we  forget  him  ?  Shall  he,  who  inhabits  the  praises 


60  The  Advantages  of 

of  eternity,  call  us  brethren,  and  yet  shall  we  forget 
such  a  brother  in  such  a  place? 

III.  The  great  reason,  however,  why  Christ  has 
commanded  us  to  remember  him,  is  this;  he  knows 
that  we  cannot  think  of  him  without  deriving  much 
benefit  to  ourselves.  What  then  are  the  advantages 
resulting  from  an  habitual  remembrance  of  Jesus  ? 
This  is  our  third  subject  of  enquiry  ;  let  us  proceed 
to  consider  it. 

1.  The  first  of  those  benefits,  which  flow  from  a  re- 
membrance of  Christ,  is  comfort  to  the  soul,  xvhen 
wounded  by  a  sense  of  sin.  What  can  be  more  reliev- 
ing, what  more  cheering  to  the  contrite  heart  of  a 
mourning  sinner,  than  to  think  of  a  Saviour,  who  was 
wounded  for  his  transgressions  and  bruised  for  his  ini- 
quities ?  to  remember  one,  whose  blood  cleanseth  from 
all  sin  ;  who  has  already  saved  thousands  of  the  guilty 
sons  of  Adam,  and  who  is  still  inviting  all  the  weary 
and  heavy  laden  of  his  sinful  race,  to  come  unto  him 
for  pardon  and  for  rest  ?  It  is  sweet  to  think  of  such  a 
Saviour  as  pouring  out  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin,  but 
it  is  still  more  sweet  to  think  of  him  as  at  this  very 
moment  appearing  before  God  for  us;  standing  as  the 
Lamb  that  has  been  slain  before  his  throne,  and  still 
bearing  in  his  sacred  body  the  marks  of  his  sufferings 
and  death.  This  surely  must  be  a  source  of  strong 
consolation  to  the  soul,  that  is  really  mourning  for  sin. 
Here  is  something  to  lean  on  ;  something  which  can 
bear  the  weight  of  a  sinner's  doubts,  and  fears,  and 
cares.  Only  let  us  once  be  brought  to  lean  on  it,  and 
we  shall  have  strength  and  peace  in  every  hour  of  trial. 
The  heavens  and  the  earth  may  be  destroyed  on  ac- 
count of  the  sin,  which  has  defiled  them,  but  we  shall 
be  safe  ;  our  souls  will  be  unhurt  in  the  mighty  wreck. 


Remeinbering  Christ.  61 

2.  An  habitual  remembrance  of  Christ  has  a  ten- 
dency to  elevate  our  affections,  to  lead  us  to  set  them 
on  things  above,  and  not  on  things  on  the  earth.  If  we 
have  a  lively  remembrance  of  an  absent  friend,  our 
hearts  will  often  be  where  he  is  ;  before  we  are  aware, 
our  thoughts  will  involuntarily  take  to  themselves 
wings,  and  go  to  him.  Thus  we  cannot  have  a  remem- 
brance of  Christ  in  our  hearts,  without  having  those 
hearts  often  in  heaven.  If  we  could  but  habitually  carry 
him  in  our  minds,  the  world  would  lose  much  of  its 
power  over  us.  We  should  have  little  time  and  less 
inclination  to  share  in  its  vanities.  Our  souls  would  no 
longer  cleave  to  the  dust ;  they  would  soar  to  their 
resting-place,  and  centre  in  their  God.  We  should 
almost  live  the  life  of  angels  upon  earth;  and  all  our 
words  and  conversation,  our  whole  conduct,  would 
savour  of  heaven. 

3.  This  heavenly-mindedness  would  lead  us  to  a 
third  benefit  resulting  from  a  remembrance  of  Christ ; 
patience  and  comfort  in  our  trials  and  afflictions.  This 
is  the  use  the  apostle  makes  of  this  remembrance  in  his 
epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  '^  Consider  him,"  says  he, 
^'  that  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners  against 
himself,  lest  ye  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds." 
Consider  ivhat  he  suffered,  the  greatness,  the  intensity 
of  his  agonies.  Consider  hoxu  he  suffered ;  how  patiently 
and  cheerfully.  "  He  was  oppressed  and  he  was  af- 
flicted 5  he  was  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and 
as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened 
not  his  mouth."  Consider  whi/  he  suffered.  '^  He  had 
done  no  sin,  neither  had  any  guile  been  found  in  his 
mouth.  He  died  the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might 
bring  us  to  God." 

These  considerations,  my  brethren,  if  they  had  their 


{}^  The  Advantages  of 

proper  effect  on  our  minds,  would  repress  all  disposi- 
tion to  impatience  and  murmuring,  when  we  are  in 
aflliction.  Did  Christ,  who  was  altogether  sinless,  suf- 
fer so  much,  and  suflVr  so  patiently,  and  that  for  such 
a  being  as  I  am;  and  shall  I,  who  am  altogether  guilty, 
be  impatient  and  complaining  in  the  hour  of  my  light 
afflictions?  What  are*  my  sufferings,  when  compared 
with  my  Saviour's  agonies  ?  Let  me  then  be  ashamed 
of  my  complaints.  Let  me  endeavour  to  get  the  lamb- 
like spirit  of  my  Muster.  Let  me  strive  to  change  my 
murmurs  for  praises,  my  sighs  for  songs. 

4.  The  remembrance  of  Christ  has  a  tendency  also 
to  keep  alive  in  our  minds  a  holy  hatred  of  sin.  Nothing 
makes  sin  appear  half  so  hateful,  as  the  cross  of  Christ ; 
nothing  so  tfiectually  checks  it  when  rising  in  the  soul, 
as  the  thought  of  a  dying  Saviour.  Did  Jesus  suffer  for 
my  sins?  Was  he  wounded  for  my  transgressions  and 
bruised  for  my  iniquities  ?  And  shall  I  trifle  with  sin  ? 
Shall  I  play  with  it,  as  though  it  were  a  harmless  thing  ? 
It  nailed  the  man,  who  is  Jehovah's  fellow,  to  a  cross  ; 
and  has  it  no  cross,  no  sting,  no  dreadful  curse  for  my 
soul  ?  Was  it  for  my  sins  that  Christ  died  ?  and  can- 
not 1  deny  a  single  lust,  nor  resist  a  single  temptation 
for  his  sake  ?  O  let  me  never  thus  crucify  the  Son  of 
God  afresh  !  Let  me  turn  my  back  on  every  scene  and 
every  society,  which  would  tempt  me  thus  to  pierce 
my  Saviour.  Let  me  watch  and  pray  against  iniquity. 
Let  me  trample  it  underneath  my  feet.  Let  me  steel 
my  heart  against  all  its  treacherous  pleasures.  It  may 
for  a  moment  seem  sweet  to  my  foolish  heart,  but  it 
cost  my  Saviour  tears  and  blood. 

Such  are  some  of  the  advantages  resulting  from  an 
habitual  remembrance  of  Christ,  and  only  some  of 
them.     This  remembrance  has  a  tendency  also  to  in- 


Remembering  Christ.  63 

crease  our  love  for  the  Redeemer,  to  excite  in  us  a 
stronger  spirit  of  obedience  to  his  commands;,  to  re- 
concile us  to  death,  and  to  teach  us  to  look  forward  to 
eternity  with  joy.  Who  then  in  a  world,  so  full  of  sin, 
of  sorrow,  and  temptation  as  this,  would  not  deaire  to 
remember  Jesus  ?  But  it  is  no  easy  task,  my  brethren, 
to  obey  this  command  of  Christ.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to 
fill  our  hearts  with  sin,a«d  vnn^rty,  ,but  it  is  hard  indeed 
to  fix  in  them  the  ;?6membrance  of  a  Saviour's  name. 
None  but  God  caii  enable  us  to  perform  the  work.  He 
only  can  imprint  on  our  hearts  the  name  of  Christ,  and 
he  only  can  preserve  it  there.  The  vanities  of  every 
passing  hour  can,  and  often  will,  efface  it ;  and  God 
himself  must  write  it  again  and  again,  or  Jesus  will  be 
forgotten.  Here  then  ive  may  see  our  need  of  prayer ; 
but  let  us  not  stop  here. 

TFe  may  see  our  need  of  exertion  also*  Must  we 
know  Christ,  before  we  can  remember  him  ?  Then  let 
us  seek  to  know  him,  to  get  every  day  a  closer  and 
more  heart-felt  acquaintance  with  his  excellencies,  his 
offices,  and  his  ways.  We  may  study  Christ  and  his 
gospel  for  ages,  and  yet  find  much  in  them  to  learn. 
There  is  a  depth  in  them,  to  which  the  minds  of  angels, 
after  ages  of  enquiry,  have  never  yet  penetrated,  and  a 
height,  to  which  they  have  not  climbed.  I^et  the  Bible 
then,  which  testifies  of  Jesus,  be  often  in  our  hands 
and  still  more  often  in  our  hearts. 

Are  we  prone  to  forget  Christ?  Then  let  us  not  only 
avoid,  as  much  as  possible,  every  thing  that  seems  cal- 
culated to  increase  the  propensity,  but  let  us  also  seek 
after  those  things,  which  have  a  tendency  to  counteract 
and  overcome  it.  Let  us  often  speak  to  one  another  of 
Christ.  Our  social  parties  would  be  much  more  de- 
lightful and  much  more  rational  too,   if  tlio  name  of 


64«  The  Advantages  of 

Jesus  were  more  often  heard  in  them,  his  gospel  more 
frecjucnth'  spoken  of,  and  his  memory  more  affcction- 
atelv  cherished.  We  love  to  talk  of  relatives  and  friends, 
who  are  mouldering  in  their  graves  ;  why  then  is  the 
dying  Jesus  always  to  be  forgotten  ?  Is  there  no  savour 
in  his  memory  ?  Are  there  no  sweet  associations  con- 
nected with  his  sacred  name  ?  All  our  employment  and 
happiness  in  heaven  will  be  to  speak  of  him  and  sing  of 
him ;  and  surely  we  might  begin  this  work  of  heaven 
here,  and  find  happiness  in  it  also,  if  we  were  not  want- 
ing to  ourselves. 

But  if  we  would  habitually  remember  Jesus,  let  us 
not  forget  the  command  given  us  in  the  text?  "  This 
do  in  remembrance  of  me."  We  soon  forget  objects, 
which  are  removed  from  our  sight ;  and  our  Lord,  who 
knows  and  pities  this  weakness  of  our  nature,  has  given 
us  an  abiding  memorial  of  himself.  He  has  appointed 
an  ordinance  fof  this  very  purpose,  to  remind  us  of  his 
love.  The  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper  is  not  de- 
signed to  blot  out  our  iniquities,  as  many  suppose  ;  but 
simply  to  remind  us  of  a  dying  Saviour.  It  was  or- 
dained, as  our  church  tells  us,  for  a  continual  remem- 
brance of  the  sacrifice  of  the  death  of  Christ.  "  There 
we  see  Jesus  evidently  set  forth  before  our  eyes  cruci- 
fied among  us,"  so  plainly  set  forth,  that  if  we  have 
any  seriousness  of  spirit,  we  shall  find  it  difficult  not  to 
see  and  remember  him.  And  yet  from  this  ordinance 
many  of  us  can  often  turn  away  without  a  struggle  and 
without  a  sigh.  What  does  this  conduct  prove  ?  Our  hu- 
mility ?  the  tenderness  of  our  conscience  ?  Alas !  bre- 
thren, it  proves  much  more  clearly  that  the  dying  re- 
quest of  a  crucified  Redeemer  is  forgotten  and  despised. 
We  do  not  so  treat  a  departed  purent  or  a  friend.  His 
last  requests  are  cherished  in  the  memory,  and  we 


Remeinbering  Christ.  65 

almost  dread  to  violate  or  neglect  them.  How  is  it  thea 
that  Jesus  only  is  despised,  when  he  says,  "  This  do 
in  remenibrance  of  me  ?"  There  is  reason  to  fear  that 
we  must  find  an  answer  to  this  enquiry,  not  in  a  tender 
conscience,  but  in  a  cold,  careless,  worldly  heart. 
There  the  evil  lies,  and  there  the  remedy  must  be  ap- 
plied. Ministers  may  reason  with  us  and  expostulate, 
but  our  hearts  must  be  changed,  before  we  shall  go  to 
the  Saviour's  table  with  a  desire  of  remembering  him 
there.  The  love  of  the  world  and  of  sin  must  be  rooted 
out  of  our  souls,  and  all  their  energies  and  affections 
fixed  on  God.  Deem  not  these  hard  sayings.  It  is  a 
mere  trifling  with  the  matter  to  stop  short  of  this  view 
of  it.  The  heart  must  be  won  to  Christ  before  sacra- 
mervts  and  ordinances  will  be  loved  by  us,  or  be  bene- 
ficial to  our  souls.  If  Christ  is  not  remembered  in 
them,  and  remembered  too  with  affection,  they  will 
be  useless  to  us ;  they  will  bring  no  comfort,  no  holi- 
ness to  our  hearts ;  they  will  leave  us,  just  as  they  find 
us,  trifling  and  cold,  earthly  and  sinful.  The  conse- 
quence of  such  a  state  as  this  is  obvious.  It  is  as  sure 
and  certain  too,  as  it  is  plain.  If  we  do  not  remember 
Christ,  he  will  in  the  end  cease  to  remember  us.  We 
need  him  now,  but  we  shall  need  him  much  more  soon ; 
and  in  that  great  day  of  our  need,  which  is  fast  ap- 
proaching, he  will  act  towards  us,  as  we  act  towards 
others  when  we  forget  them.  He  will  take  no  interest 
in  any  thing  that  concerns  us.  He  will  leave  us  to  be 
our  own  defenders  and  saviours,  to  plead  our  own 
cause  at  the  bar  of  God,  and  to  keep  off  with  our  own 
feeble  arm  the  stroke  of  vengeance.  He  will  leave  us 
to  perish. 

We  may  not  think  much  now  of  the  misery  of  being 
thus  forsaken.  We  may  have  no  spiritual  feelings  and 

I 


66  The  Advantages  oj]  &'c. 

no  dread  of  spiritual  evils  in  our  minds.  But  the  dream 
of  life  will  soon  be  ended ;  and  we  shall  awake  in  a 
world,  where  all  our  dormant  powers  will  be  roused  to 
action  in  all  their  energy,  either  by  that  fulness  of  joy, 
which  fills  the  exalted  minds  of  angels,  or  by  the  bursting 
wrath  of  an  insulted  God.  We  shall  then  be  forced  to 
feel,  that  there  is  nothing  more  desirable  for  an  immor- 
tal being,  than  to  be  remembered  by  the  Lord  of  glory 
in  his  kingdom,  and  nothing  more  dreadful,  than  to  be 
forgotten  by  him  there.  If  he  were  to  forget  us  even 
here,  in  this  world  of  mercy,  we  should  be  undone. 
Thousands  of  our  fellow-creatures  might  remember  us, 
and  millions  of  angels  come  to  our  help,  but  all  the  in- 
habitants of  earth  and  of  heaven  could  not  supply  the 
place  of  a  departed  God.  All  their  united  efforts  could 
not  keep  for  one  moment  our  bodies  from  the  grave, 
nor  our  souls  from  destruction.  Who  then  among  us 
can  bear  the  thought  of  being  forgotten  by  the  Lord 
Jehovah  ?  Which  of  us  will  dare  to  forget  him,  and  be 
easy  ?  O  may  we  all  be  led  this  very  hour  to  his  throne  I 
May  each  of  us  offer  there,  with  a  contrite  heart,  this 
simple  prayer,  which  has  never  since  the  day  of  his 
agony  been  offered  to  him  in  vain,  "  Lord,  remember 
roe." 


SERMON  V. 


THE  LEGACY  OF  CHRIST. 


ST.  JOHN  XIV.  37. 

Peace  I  leave  ivith  you  ;  my  fieace  I  give  unto  you  :  not  as  the  ivorld 
giveth,  give  I  unto  you. 


A  HAT  the  Son  of  God  might  become  the  merciful 
and  faithful  high-priest  of  his  church,  it  behoved  him 
to  be  fnade  in  all  things  like  unto  his  brethren ;  not 
only  to  clothe  himself  in  their  outward  form,  but  to 
take  upon  him  also  their  inward  nature.  Hence  in  con- 
templating the  wonderful  history  of  his  life,  we  see 
him  influenced  by  the  same  affections,  that  influence 
ourselves,  and  manifesting  the  same  dispositions.  From 
his  cradle  to  his  grave,  we  behold  in  him  the  Son  of 
man,  as  well  as  the  Son  of  God. 

When  he  knew  that  his  hour  was  come,  that  he 
should  depart  out  of  the  world  unto  his  Father,  we  find 
him  feeling  and  acting,  as  many  of  his  brethren  have 
felt  and  acted  on  the  bed  of  death.  He  thinks  of  the 
beloved  friends,  from  whom  he  is  about  to  be  separated, 
and  is  troubled  in  spirit  at  the  thought  of  leaving  them. 
He  calls  them  around  him  to  take  of  them  a  last  fare- 
well. In  the  most  gentle  and  affectionate  terms,  that 
language  can  supply,  he  tells  them  of  the  scene  of  sor- 
row,  through  which  he  is  about  to  pass ;  assures  them 
that  death  itself  shall  not  separate  them  from  his  love ; 
strives  to  cheer  them  with  the  hope  of  one  day  seeing 
him  again  ;  gives  them  his  dying  blessing ;  and  at 


68  The  Legacy 

length,  lifting  up  his  eyes  to  !icavcn,  fie  commends 
them  to  his  Father's  care,  and  supplicates  for  them  the 
richest  blesbings. 

Neither  were  tliese  the  only  respects,  in  which  the 
dying  Jesus  acted  as  the  dying  man.  When  his  end 
drew  near,  he  made,  as  it  were,  his  will  and  testament, 
and  would  not  suffer  the  last  interview  with  his  disci- 
ples to  close,  before  he  had  reminded  them  of  the  pre- 
cious gifts,  which  he  purposed  to  bestow  upon  them. 
Houses  and  lands  indeed,  silver  and  gold,  he  had  none 
to  give  ;  but  he  bequeathed  to  them  a  treasure  far  more 
valuable,  than  splendid  mansions  and  extensive  territo- 
ries; a  treasure  which  silver  and  gold  could  never  buy. 
*'  Peace,"  says  he,  "  I  leave  with  you  ;  my  peaccii  give 
unto  you  :  not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you." 

What  then  is  this  peace,  of  which  tlie  Saviour  here 
.speaks  ?  In  what  manner  has  he  given  this  blessing  to 
his  saints?  These  enquiries  are  naturally  suggested  by 
the  words  before  us,  and  they  are  enquiries,  which 
have  surely  a  claim  on  our  attention.  We  do  not  refuse 
to  listen  to  the  words  of  a  dying  friend.  We  examine 
with  more  than  common  interest  the  will  and  testament 
of  one,  who  has  nothing  but  perishable  riches  to  leave 
behind  him.  Let  us  not  turn  away  our  ears  then  from 
the  parting  words  of  Jesus,  our  best  friend.  Let  us  not 
look  with  indifference  on  the  last  will  of  him,  who  has 
all  the  eternal  treasures  of  earth  and  of  heaven  at  his 
disposal.  Let  us  open  it  with  some  sense  of  its  vast 
importance,  and  before  our  eyes  are  closed  in  death, 
may  vvc  all  sec  onr  names  written  in  it,  and  become 
the  inheritors  of  its  everlasting  riches. 

J.  What  then  is  the  blessing,  which  Christ  bequeaths 
to  his  disciples?  It  is  peace,  "  Peace  1  leave  with  you  : 
my  peace  I  give  unto  you." 


of  Christ.  69 

Now  if  there  is  any  word,  which  can  excite  in  the 
human  brei^st  pleasing  sensations,  it  is  the  word  peace. 
If  there  is  any  blessing  truly  desirable,  it  is  tb.c  bless- 
ing of  peace.  It  is  as  sweet  to  (he  children  of  men,  as 
the  lonQ:ed  wished  for  shore  to  the  mariner,  who  is 
wearied  with  the  dangerous  labours  of  the  ocean.  It 
is  as  reviving,  as  the  warm  breezes  of  the  spring  to 
the  man,  who  has  just  risen  from  a  bed  of  sickness. 
How  welcome  are  the  tidings  of  returning  peace  to  a 
nation,  which  has  been  long  accustomed  to  the  sound 
of  war !  How  beautiful  the  feet  of  them,  who  publish 
it !  What  gladness  fills  every  heart !  what  joy  sits  on 
every  countenance  !  what  praises  and  thanksgivings 
are  heard  from  every  tongue  ! 

But  it  is  not  amongst  mankind  only  that  peace  is 
thus  highh'-  esteemed.  It  is  declared  by  the  Almighty 
himself  to  be  among  the  things,  which  he  calls  good  ; 
one  of  the  most  precious  mercies,  which  he  gives  to 
his  faithful  servants.  To  bring  down  this  blessing  from 
above,  was  the  great  object  of  our  Saviour's  appearing 
on  the  earth.  To  this  end  was  he  born,  and  for  this 
cause  came  he  into  the  world,  to  establish  the  covenant 
of  peace  ;  to  preach  the  gospel  of  peace  ;  to  say  unto 
Zion,  that  her  warfare  is  accomplished,  that  peace  is 
restored  between  her  and  her  offended  Lord.  Hence 
the  prophecies,  which  announced  the  coming  of  the 
Messiah,  spoke  of  him  under  the  character  of  the  Prince 
of  peace.  Hence  when  he  was  at  length  born  in  the 
city  of  David,  peace  on  earth  was  proclaimed  by  the 
rejoicing  angels,  and  connected  with  the  glory  of  their 
God.  Hence  too,  when  he  was  about  to  leave  his  be- 
loved disciples  and  to  lay  down  his  life  for  sinners, 
peace  was  the  precious  legacy  he  left  them.  And  what 
was  his  language  after  he  was  risen  from  the  dead  ?  No 


yo  The  Legacij 

sooner  did  he  appear  among  his  dejected  followers,  than 
the  sound  of  peace  was  again  heard.  Jesus  said  unto 
them,  "  Peace  be  unto  you." 

What  then  is  this  peace  ?  Is  it  an  exemption  from 
the  calamities  of  life,  from  sorrow  and  affliction?  What 
says  the  great  giver  of  it  ?  '*  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you  that  ye  shall  weep,  and  lament,  and  be  sorrowful. 
In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation." 

Is  it  peace  with  the  world,  an  exemption  from  its 
hatred  and  persecution  ?  How  then  shall  the  Scriptures 
be  fulfilled?  "The  servant,"  says  Christ,  '^  is  not 
greater  than  his  lord.  If  they  have  persecuted  me,  they 
will  also  persecute  you.  If  ye  were  of  the  world,  the 
world  would  love  his  own  5  but  because  ye  are  not  of 
the  world,  but  I  have  chosen  you  out  of  the  world, 
therefore  the  world  hateth  you." 

1.  The  peace,  which  Jesus  came  down  from  heaven 
to  bring,  is  not  an  unhallowed  peace  with  a  sinful  world, 
but  peace  with  God,  reconciliation  with  that  great  and 
holy  Being,  in  whom  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our 
being. 

The  man,  who  inherits  this  precious  legacy,  was  once 
the  enemy  of  the  Lord.  He  was  one  of  those,  of  whom 
the  Almighty  says,  '^  My  soul  loathed  them,  and  their 
soul  also  abhorred  me."  He  hated  God,  and  God  could 
not  love  him.  He  might  indeed  look  on  him  with 
pity,  but  he  could  not  regard  him  with  approbation  and 
delight.  This  warfare  is  now  for  ever  at  an  end.  The 
sinner's  heart,  the  sinner's  character  is  changed.  The 
enmity  of  his  carnal  mind  has  been  subdued.  He  has 
gone,  as  a  repentant  prodigal,  to  the  throne  of  his  hea- 
venly Father,  and  has  received  a  welcome  and  a  par- 
don there.  Being  justified  by  faith,  he  has  peace  with 
God  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     A  covenant  of 


of  Christ.  71 

peace  and  friendship  has  been  entered  into  between  the 
King  of  heaven  and  his  once  rebellious  subject ;  it  has 
been  confirmed  and  sealed  ;  and  he  lias  pledged  his 
faithfulness  and  love,  that  it  shall  be  a  perpetual  cove- 
nant, which  shall  not  be  forgotten. 

2  From  this  covenant  of  peace  results  another  bless- 
ing comprehended  in  the  Saviour's  legacy  ;  peace  in 
the  soul^  peace  of  conscience,  inward  serenity  and  rest. 
This  is  a  blessing,  which  none  but  Christ  can  give,  and 
none  but  his  renewed  people  receive.  Others  may  in- 
deed seek  it ;  they  may  rise  early,  and  take  late  rest  to 
obtain  that  which  they  think  will  purchase  it ;  but  they 
spend  their  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and 
their  labour  for  that,  which  satisfieth  not.  They  may 
perhaps  find  something,  which  they  may  for  a  moment 
mistake  for  it ;  they  may  grasp  the  shadow,  and  ima- 
gine that  they  have  found  the  substance  ;  but  until  a 
man  has  been  cleansed  from  his  sins  by  the  blood  of 
Jesus,  until  his  heart  has  been  sprinkled  from  an  evil 
conscience  by  the  same  blood,  he  must  remain  as  far 
off  from  true  peace  of  mind,  as  he  is  from  God.  He 
may  possess  the  peace  of  Jonah,  who  slumbered  in  the 
storm,  a  peace  which  is  the  token  of  approaching  death; 
but  he  must  become  an  humble,  weeping  suppliant  at 
a  Saviour's  cross,  before  he  can  enjoy  any  peace,  that 
is  worth  possessing.  *'  There  is  no  peace,  saith  my 
God,  to  the  wicked."  It  is  his  people  only,  who  dwell 
in  a  peaceable  habitation,  and  in  sure  dwellings,  and  in 
quiet  resting  places. 

The  peace,  which  Christ  bequeathed  to  his  people, 
is  further  styled  his  peace.  '^  Peace,"  says  he,  *'  1  leave 
with  you  ;  my  peace  I  give  unto  you."  It  is  the  same 
peace,  that  he  himself  enjoys ;  the  same  peace,  that 
kept  his  soul  serene  in  the  midst  of  all  his  sorrows  and 


72  The  Legacy 

trials  upon  earth  ;  the  same  glorious  rest,  into  which 
he  is  now  entered  in  his  Father's  kingdom  above. 

As  the  precious  oil,  that  was  poured  on  the  head  of 
Aaron,  went  down  to  the  skirts  of  his  garments,  so  the 
joy  poured  on  Jesus,  as  the  head  of  his  church,  de- 
scends to  all  his  members,  and  the  meanest  of  his  peo- 
ple share  in  his  fulness.  He  is  gone  into  the  kingdom 
of  peace  and  of  glory,  as  the  forerunner  of  his  saints. 
They  are  said  to  be  raised  up  together  with  him,  and 
made  to  sit  together  in  heavenly  places.  They  have, 
in  some  degree,  already  entered  into  the  joy  of  their 
Lord.  Even  in  this  house  of  their  pilgrimage,  they 
receive  at  seasons  the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  a  portion 
of  the  happiness  of  their  glorified  Redeemer,  a  fore- 
taste of  the  eternal  rest,  which  remuineth  for  the  people 
of  God  beyond  the  grave. 

Thus  then  the  peace  spoken  of  by  Christ  in  the  words 
before  us  is,  first,  peace  with  God,  a  share  in  that  friend- 
ship, which  subsists  between  him  and  his  well  beloved 
Son;  it  is  secondly,  inward  peace,  peace  of  mind, 
peace  of  the  same  kind,  as  that  which  Christ  himself 
enjoys  in  his  kingdom  of  glory.  It  is  indeed  inferior 
to  it  in  degree,  but  it  is  of  the  same  nature,  and  flows 
from  the  same  living  fountain,  as  the  happiness  of 
heaven. 

11.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  enquire,  secondly,  in 
what  manner  this  precious  peace  has  been  given  by 
the  Redeemer  to  his  people. 

The  word,  which  is  here  translated  to  give,  may  be 
understood  as  signifying  to  bequeath,  to  give  by  will 
or  as  a  legacy  ;  and  it  is  in  this  sense  probably,  that  it 
was  used  on  this  occasion  by  our  Lord.  Neither  is 
a  long  train  of  reasoning  necessary  to  convince  us  of 
the  propriety  and  beauty  of  this  term.     A  little  atten- 


of  Christ,  7^ 

tioii  to  the  cireumstances  connected  with  the  text,  will 
shew  us  at  once  its  meaning  and  its  force. 

What  was  the  situation  of  Christ  when  he  uttered 
these  gracious  words  ?  It  was  the  situation  of  a  man, 
who  sees  himself  standing  on  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
and  who  bequeaths  to  his  friends  all  that  he  is  possessed 
of,  before  he  is  taken  from  them.  The  Saviour  knew 
that  his  hour  was  come  that  he  should  depart  out  of 
this  world  unto  his  Father,  and  he  here  leaves  to  his 
beloved  disciples  those  blessings,  which,  as  the  Medi- 
ator of  the  church,  he  had  at  his  disposal. 

The  property,  which  a  man  conveys  by  a  will  or  tes- 
tament, must  be  his  own  estate,  his  oivn  property,  and 
he  must  also  have  a  right  of  transferring  it  to  others* 
Thus  the  peace,  which  Christ  bequeathed  to  his  dis- 
ciples, was  his  own  peace,  a  property  to  which  he  had 
an  undoubted  claim,  and  which  he  had  also  the  power 
of  conveying  to  others,  of  disposing  of  by  will,  or  in 
whatsoever  manner  he  pleased.  His  blood  purchased 
this  property,  his  righteousness  obtained  it  for  his 
church.  The  price  indeed  was  costly  ;  all  the  angels 
in  heaven,  with  their  united  riches,  could  not  have  paid 
it ;  but  Jesus  bought  the  blessing ;  he  bought  it  by 
parting  for  a  season  with  his  throne  and  his  kingdom, 
with  his  honour  and  his  glory.  He  was  the  only  Being 
in  the  universe  rich  enough  to  purchase  pardon  and 
peace  for  his  people,  and  rather  than  that  his  people 
should  perish,  he  cheerfully  became  poor  for  them,  that 
they  through  his  poverty  might  be  made  rich.  Hence 
the  apostle  says,  that  God  hath  appointed  him  heir  of 
all  things  for  his  church ;  and  that  it  hath  pleased  the 
Father,  that  in  him  should  all  fulness  dwell.  Hence 
we  find  him  bestowing  the  most  precious  blessings, 
that  he  himself  enjo}s,  upon  his  children.  ^^  I  appoint," 

K 


74  The  Legacff 

says  he,  *'  unto  you  a  kingdom,  as  my  Father  hath  ap- 
pointed unto  me."  ^'  To  him,  that  overcometh,  will  I 
grant  to  sit  with  me  on  my  throne." 

The  peace,  which  Jesus  gives  to  his  disciples,  is  like 
a  legacy  in  this  respect  also,  that  it  could  never  have 
been  received  and  inherited,  if  the  great  giver  of  it  had 
not  died.  "  Where  a  testament  is,"  says  the  aposde, 
*'  there  must  also  of  necessity  be  the  death  of  the  tes- 
tator; for  a  testament  is  of  force  after  men  are  dead, 
otherwise  it  is  of  no  strength  at  all,  while  the  testator 
liveth."  A  man  may  leave  to  his  friends  abundant 
riches  and  treasures,  but  these  gifts  will  profit  them 
nothing  till  after  he  is  dead  ;  it  is  his  death,  which  gives 
them  a  title  to  the  property,  and  puts  them  in  posses- 
sion of  it.  Thus  if  Jesus  had  not  died,  the  blessings, 
which  he  bequeathed  to  his  people,  would  never  have 
been  their's.  He  might  have  said,  "  Peace  1  leave 
with  you."  but  there  would  have  been  no  peace.  He 
might  have  said,  '*  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you  in 
my  Father's  house,"  but  not  one  sinner  would  have 
entered  the  heavenly  mansion  ;  all  the  countless  hosts  of 
just  men  made  perfect,  who  are  now  singing,  "  Wor- 
thv  the  Lamb,"  around  the  throne  in  heaven,  would 
have  been  cursing  the  Being,  who  mocked  them,  in 
the  regions  of  despair.  ^'  Jesus  has  died"  is  the  only 
claim,  which  a  race  of  guilty  creatures  can  offer  to  the 
offended  Sovereign  of  heaven.  It  is  only  by  means  of 
his  death  that  they,  who  are  called,  can  receive  the  eter- 
nal inheritance  promised  to  them. 

But  notwithstanding  these  points  of  resemblance, 
there  is  something  peculiar  in  the  testament  of  Christ. 
"  Not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you." 

This  language  may  be  designed  to  remind  us  that 
the  blessings,  which  Christ  has  left  to  his  followers, 


of  Christ,  75 

are  widely  difFerent  in  their  nature  from  those  things, 
which  men  leave  to  their  friends,  far  more  valuable, 
more  satisfactory,  and  more  durable.  They  are  more 
valuable.  Men  may  leave  behind  them  much  silver 
and  much  gold,  stately  mansions,  pompous  titles,  and 
proud  distinctions;  they  may  give  to  their  heirs  crowns 
and  kingdoms ;  but  what  do  these  things  profit  them? 
what  is  their  value,  when  compared  with  peace  of  con- 
science, with  the  friendship  of  the  Almighty  ?  They 
cannot  mSke  a  man  happy  even  in  the  day  of  pros- 
perity ;  while  the  legacy  of  Christ,  even  in  the  darkest 
night  of  adversity,  can  satisfy  the  longing  soul,  and  fill 
the  hungry  soul  with  goodness.  Other  legacies  are 
all  temporal ;  the  hand  of  time  and  of  death  wrings 
them  from  the  eager  grasp  of  their  possessors,  almost 
as  soon  as  they  have  obtained  them  ;  but  the  gifts  of 
Christ  are  all  eternal.  When  heaven  and  earth  shall 
pass  away,  there  is  not  one  of  them,  that  will  perish,  or 
be  plucked  out  of  its  possessor's  hand.  They  will  re- 
main  precious  as  ever,  when  every  earthly  treasure  shall 
be  heard  of  no  more. 

From  the  imperfect  view,  which  we  have  thus  taken 
of  the  cheering  words  before  us,  the  humble  and  be- 
lieving Christian  may  see  the  security  and  stabihty  of 
the  divine  promises.  Pardon  and  peace,  grace  and  glory 
are  not  only  promised,  but  bequeathed  to  him  by  the 
unalterable  will  of  Jesus  his  Saviour.  The  testator  is 
now  dead,  the  testament  is  in  force ;  and  though  it 
were  but  a  man's  testament,  no  man  disannulleth  or 
addeth  thereto.  Let  not  therefore  your  heart  be  troubled, 
brethren,  neither  let  it  be  afraid.  Possessed  of  such 
blessings  as  these,  peace  in  your  own  consciences  and 
peace  with  your  God,  let  your  souls  magnify  the  Lord, 
let  your  spirits  rejoice  in  God,  your  Saviour.    Let  the 


7^  The  Legacy 

possession  of  these  treasures  cheer  you  in  the  want  of 
every  earthly  good.  Though  poor  and  afflicted,  let 
them  make  you  more  joyful,  than  the  hn})picst  heir  to 
the  most  splendid  riches.  In  every  hour  of  trial  and 
of  sorrow,  in  every  season  of  poverty  and  anxiety,  think 
of  the  legacy  of  Christ,  and  be  comforted. 

Do  you  say  that  you  are  strangers  to  the  peace  of 
Christ,  although  you  have  reason  to  cherish  an  humble 
hope,  that  you  have  been  made  partakers  of  his  sanctif}-- 
ingand  saving  grace?  If  you  are  habitually  going  in  sin- 
cerity and  truth,  with  humility  and  faith,  to  the  foun- 
tain, which  divine  mercy  has  opened  for  sin  and  un- 
cleanness ;  if  you  are  really  seeking  there  freedom  from 
the  defiling  power  of  sin,  as  well  as  salvation  from  its 
fearful  consequences  ;  you  cannot  be  destitute  of  re- 
conciliation and  peace  with  God.  He  never  has,  he 
never  will,  regard  with  any  thing  short  of  the  tcnder- 
est  love,  the  sinner  who  is  the  beloved  of  his  Son,  who 
has  been  washed  with  his  blood  and  sanctified  by  his 
Spirit. 

You  may  indeed  be  humble,  believing  Christians, 
and  yet  be  strangers  to  that  inward  peace,  which  Christ 
has  bequeathed  to  his  people ;  but  there  is  only  one 
reason  to  be  given,  why  you  are  strangers  to  it ;  you 
will  not  lay  claim  to  and  possess  it.  A  man  may  have 
a  precious  legacy  bequeathed  to  him,  and  he  may  be 
so  infatuated  as  to  refuse  to  accept  it,  or  so  indolent, 
as  to  neglect  the  proper  means  of  possessing  himself 
of  it ;  but  still  the  legacy  is  his.  It  is  his  own  folly, 
his  own  indolence  alone,  that  keep  it  from  his  hands. 
The  very  same  causes,  my  Christian  brethren,  united 
with  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  may  keep  you  strangers 
to  the  peace  of  God.  It  was  from  all  eternity  the 
property  of  your  Saviour ;  by  his  agony  and  bloody 


of  Christ.  77 

sweat,  by  his  cross  and  passion,  he  has  acquired  the 
right  of  giving  it  to  whomsoever  he  will ;  he  has 
not  only  promised,  but  he  has  bequeathtd  it  to  all  who 
seek  and  love  him  ;  he  has  put  his  dying  will  and  tes- 
tament in  your  hands  in  his  gospel ;  he  has  bid  you 
examine  this  will,  and  told  you  how  to  know  whether 
your  names  are  written  in  it ;  he  has  died  a  cruel  and  a 
bitter  death,  that  there  might  be  no  impediment  nor 
delay  in  your  obtaining  his  precious  peace  ;  he  invites, 
he  urges  you  to  take  it  and  to  enter  into  his  joy  : — 
the  Saviour  has  done  this,  and  more  than  this,  to  make 
you  peaceful  and  happy  ;  and  yet  you  are  strangers  to 
his  peace  and  unacquainted  with  his  blessedness.  How 
can  these  things  be  ?  Slither  there  is  unfaithfulness 
in  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  or  there  is  something  wrong 
in  you.  Search  well  your  hearts,  and  judge  whether 
your  want  of  peace  arises  from  some  defect  in  the  will 
of  Jesus,  or  from  some  evil  in  yourselves  ;  whether 
you  have  not  abundant  reason  to  trace  your  despon- 
dency to  unbelief,  to  slothfulness,  to  a  carnal  and 
worldly  mind. 

Although  the  pride  of  your  heart  may  prevent  you 
from  at  once  discovering  it,  be  assured  that  the  cause 
of  your  doubts  and  disquietude  is  to  be  found  in  your- 
selves, and  not  in  the  faithful  Jesus.  Endeavour  then 
to  find  where  the  evil  lies,  and,  in  dependence  on  di- 
vine grace,  strive  to  root  it  out  of  your  souls.  Are  you 
doubtful  of  your  title  to  this  legacy  of  the  dying  Jesus  ? 
Is  your  knowledge  small,  is  your  faith  weak  ?  Use  the 
means  to  establish  yourselves  in  the  faith,  to  grow  in 
grace  and  knowledge.  Bring  your  hearts  and  lives 
more  frequently  to  the  test  of  Scripture ;  pray  more 
frequently  and  fervently  ;  use  more  diligently  ail  the 
appointed  means  of  grace ;    watch  more  against  sin ; 


78  l"he  Legacy 

endeavour  to  get  clearer  ideas  of  the  freeness  and  ful- 
ness of  the  covenant  of  grace ;  strive  to  stir  up  your 
languid  desires  after  spiritual  blessings ;  seek  for  these 
blessings,  not  as  things  merely  desirable,  but  as  things 
indispensable  to  your  happiness,  not  as  things  beyond 
your  reach,  but  as  things  attainable  ;  look  less  to  your- 
selves and  more  to  the  Redeemer;  and  the  day-star 
shall,  in  the  end,  arise  in  your  hearts  ;  the  peace  of  God 
shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds.  "  Your  peace  shall 
be  as  a  river,  and  your  righteousness  as  the  waves  of 
the  sea." 

But  have  all  amongst  us  a  right  thus  to  lay  claim  to 
the  Saviour's  legacy,  the  Saviour's  peace  ?  Are  we  all 
warranted  to  rejoice  in  our  title  to  this  precious  gift  ? 
There  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  greater  part  of  us  have 
no  more  claim  to  it,  than  we  have  to  crowns  and  scep- 
tres. Before  we  can  have  a  title  to  it,  we  must  be 
united  to  Christ  by  a  living  faith;  we  must  become  his 
people,  hjs  children  ;  we  must  seek  our  peace  in  him, 
and  in  him  alone ;  a  great  moral  change  must  take 
place  within  us  ;  our  affections  must  be  withdrawn  from 
the  world  and  sin,  and  fixed  on  holiness  and  God  ;  we 
must  be  !)orn  again  of  the  Spirit,  and  be  renewed  after 
the  divine  image.  "There  is  no  peace,  saith  my  God, 
to  the  wicked  ;"  the  wicked  have  not  only  no  title  to 
this  blessing,  but  they  are  altogether  incapable  of  en- 
joying or  receiving  it.  *'  Their  minds  are  like  the  trou- 
bled sea,  when  it  camiot  rest." 

And  if  God  had  not  made  this  declaration,  our  own 
experience  must  have  led  us  to  a  conviction  of  the 
same  truth.  Happiness  has  been  the  one  great  object^ 
which  we  have  been  seeking  ever  since  we  were  born  ; 
all  the  energies  of  our  minds  and  all  the  strength  of  our 
bodies  have  been  employed  in  the  pursuit  of  it ;  and 


of  Christ.  79 

yel  we  are  not  happy.  We  seem  to  be  receding  from 
the  object  of  our  labours,  rather  than  drawing  nearer 
to  it.  It  is  true  that  we  are  sometimes  as  happy  for  an 
hour,  as  the  happiest  insect,  that  sports  in  the  summer 
sun.  Our  efforts  to  stifle  reflection  are  successful,  and 
we  are  enabled  to  banish  from  our  minds  every  thought, 
which,  as  rational  and  immortal  beings,  we  might  be 
expected  to  cherish  there.  But  what  does  this  profit  us  ? 
We  are  the  next  hour  a  prey  to  disappointment,  to  dis- 
content, and  the  galling  consciousness  of  our  own  va- 
nity and  littleness.  \n.  spite  of  ourselves,  the  mind  will 
resume  its  hated  work  ;  thoughtfulness  will  seize  upon 
us  ;  and  conscience  will  make  its  voice  to  be  heard. 
The  consequence  is,  that  existence  becomes  an  almost 
intolerable  burden.  Our  hearts  ache  for  relief,  and  we 
fly  in  search  of  it  to  those  very  pursuits  of  sin  and  folly, 
which  we  are  conscious  will  again  leave  us  to  our  own 
wretchedness. 

Thus  have  we  gone  on  from  day  to  day,  seeking 
rest  and  finding  none.  If  then  we  have  been  strangers 
to  peace  in  the  season  of  health  and  prosperity,  can  we 
expect,  brethren,  to  be  less  unhappy  in  the  day  of  afilic- 
tion,  and  in  the  hour  of  sickness  and  of  death  ?  This 
day  and  this  hour  may  be  much  nearer  to  us,  than  we 
are  aware.  We  may  indeed  hardly  see  how  it  is  possi- 
ble for  affliction  or  death  to  touch  us.  The  amusements 
and  business  of  the  world  may  even  have  kept  every 
tliought  of  them  out  of  our  minds ;  but  neither  busi- 
ness nor  amusements  can  always  keep  sickness  out  of 
our  houses,  nor  death  out  of  our  chambers,  nor  sorrow 
out  of  our  hearts.  There  are  a  thousand  unsuspected 
avenues,  by  which  grief  can  enter  the  soul.  Are  we 
then  prepared  to  receive  it  as  a  guest  ?  Is  there  any 
thing  within  us,  which  will  almost  welcome  it  into  our 


80  The  Legacy  of  Christ. 

bosoms,  mingle  itself  with  it,  and  turn  it  into  peace  ? 
Are  we  possessed  of  any  thing,  which  can  make  the 
hour  of  tribulation  an  hour  of  joy  ?  Infidelity  cannot 
do  this  ;  scepticism  never  yet  soothed  one  afflicted  soul 
to  peace,  never  lightened  it  of  one  sorrowful  care,  never 
smoothed  the  pillow  of  one  sick  or  one  dying  man. 
Atheism  has  indeed  been  permitted  to  bestow  on  some 
of  its  most  depraved  and  hardened  victims  an  awful  in- 
sensibility  ;  it  has  enabled  a  man  to  trifle  like  a  child, 
even  in  the  prospect  of  immediate  death,  and  to  be  as 
thoughtless  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  as  the  brute 
beasts,  that  have  no  understanding.  But  this  insensi- 
bility, so  far  from  being  a  blessing,  is  one  of  the  hea- 
viest curses,  that  can  be  drawn  down  upon  a  sinner's 
head.  Such  a  peace  as  this  would  be  well  exchanged 
for  the  ans-uish  of  remorse.  It  is  a  death-warrant  to  the 
soul,  the  forerunner  of  eternal  destruction.  It  is  the  re- 
ligion of  the  cross  only,  which  can  quiet  the  mind 
without  degrading  or  brutalizing  it.  It  is  the  gospel 
only,  that  can  say  to  the  agitated  soul,  "  Peace,  be  still." 
Turn  then,  my  brethren,  from  the  lying  vanities  of  a 
sceptical  and  foolish  world,  and  seek  with  your  whole 
heart  the  peace  of  Christ.  Seek,  at  the  cross  of  Jesus, 
reconciliation  with  your  offended  God.  Seek  an  in- 
terest in  that  blood,  which  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Draw 
near  with  a  true  heart,  in  full  assurance  of  faith,  to  this 
fountain  of  blessedness,  and  you  shall  at  length  find 
rest  to  your  wearied  souls.  Having  your  hearts 
sprinkled  from  an  evil  conscience,  a  peace  shall  be 
poured  out  on  you,  which  passeth  all  understanding; 
a  peace,  which  none  of  the  calamities  of  life  can  ma- 
terially affect ;  a  peace,  which  will  keep  your  souls  se- 
rene amidst  the  wreck  of  a  perishing  universe  ;  a  peace, 
which  will  endure  for  ever  in  the  kingdom  of  your  God. 


SERMON  VI- 


THE  NEWS  OF  C  HRIST'S  RESURRECTION 
SENT  TO  PETER. 


ST.  MARK   XVI.    7. 

Go  ijour  ivay  ;  ie/l  his  disci/ilcs  and  Peter,  that  he  goeth  before  yciu 
mto  Galilee:  there  shall  ye  see  him. 


In  the  history,  which  the  Holy  Spirit  lias  given  us 
of  the  life  of  Christ,  there  are  many  circumstances  re- 
lated, which  appear,  on  the  first  view,  to  be  altogether 
unimportant.  We  consider  them  as  not  designed  to 
convey  to  us  any  instruction,  and  pass  them  over  as 
too  trifling  to  occupy  our  attention.  Here  however 
we  err.  Jesus  never  uttered  one  unmeaning  saying ; 
there  is  not  a  single  action  of  his  life  recorded  in  the 
Scriptures,  which  is  not  of  some  importance  to  us, 
and  which  may  not  furnish  us  with  a  useful  lesson. 
We  may  apply  this  remark  to  the  words  before  us. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus,  three 
faithful  women  came  to  his  sepulchre,  with  the  design 
of  shedding  their  last  tear  over  his  remains,  and  of  pay- 
ing of  them  the  last  kind  offices  of  love.  The  Saviour 
however  had  left  the  tomb,  and  as  the  women  were 
entering  it  with  mingled  sensations  of  surprise  and 
doubt  and  joy,  an  angel  appears  to  them,  tells  them 
that  their  beloved  master  was  risen,  and  commands 
them  to  carry  the  joyful  tidings  to  his  disconsolate  dis- 
ciples.    But  in  the  command,  that  was  given  them. 

L 


8^  The  News  of  Christ's 

we  find  one  disciple  singled  out  from  the  rest ;  ^'  Tell 
his  disciples  and  Peter,'*''  Now  this  circumstance  may 
appear  on  the  first  view  to  be  hardly  worthy  a  moment's 
consideration  ;  but  let  us  not  make  light  of  it ;  let  us 
rather  attentively  consider  it,  and  entreat  the  Spirit  of 
God  to  make  it  the  means  of  imparting  instruction  to 
our  souls. 

In  directing  your  attention  to  this  circumstance,  I 
purpose  to  consider,  first,  the  person,  to  whom  the 
message  in  the  text  was  particularly  sent ;  secondly, 
the  Being,  who  sent  it  ;  and,  thirdly,  the  messengers, 
who  were  the  bearers  of  it. 

I.  To  whom  was  this  message  particularly  sent  ? 
To  Peter.  And  who  was  Peter,  that  he  should  be 
thus  singled  out  from  among  the  disciples  ?  By  what 
was  he  distinguished  from  the  other  ten,  that  he  should 
be  thus  honoured  ?  We  know  that  at  the  period  when 
he  received  this  message,  he  was  distinguished  from 
them  by  a  pre-eminence,  not  in  merit,  but  in  guilt. 
But  two  days  before,  he  had  denied  his  master,  when 
his  master,  was  about  to  die  for  him.  All  the  disci- 
ples forsook  him  and  fled,  but  Peter  went  further,  and 
added  the  guilt  of  falsehood,  curses,  and  oaths,  to  the 
baseness  of  desertion.  His  sin  was  of  the  first  magni- 
tude, of  a  crimson  die.  It  had  too  this  peculiar  aggra- 
vation, that  it  brought  a  scandal  on  the  church,  when 
the  church  seemed  least  able  to  bear  it.  The  shep 
herd  was  smitten,  the  sheep  were  scattered  ;  and  this 
was  the  season,  in  which  Peter  dishonoured  his  Lord, 
and  denied  hisconnection  with  his  persecuted  foliowtfrs. 

This  then  was  the  man,  to  whom  the  risen  Jebus  di- 
rected his  angel  to  send  a  particular  message  of  com- 
fort and  peace.  Had  the  faithful  John,  who  adhered 
to  him  in  his  sufferings  and  stood  by  his  cross,  been 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  88 

thus  singled  out,  it  might  have  excited  no  surprise ; 
but  for  Peter,  the  treacherous  Peter,  to  be  thus  ho- 
-iioured,  seems  indeed  strange  and  mysterious.  Who 
can  fathom  the  depth  of  the  Saviour's  love  ?  Who  can 
measure  his  unbounded  grace  ? 

Was  Peter  singled  out  then  on  account  of  his  pecu- 
liar guilt  ?  God  forbid.  Never  let  us  attempt  to  mag- 
nify the  grace  of  God  by  making  that  abominable 
thing,  which  he  hates,  a  recommendation  to  his  favour. 
It  is  true  that  he  is  ready  to  pardon  the  greatest,  the 
vilest  sinner,  who  really  seeks  his  pardon  5  it  is  true 
that  he  has  sometimes  shewn  the  riches  of  his  grace  by 
making  a  heinous  sinner  a  holy  saint ;  but  are  we 
therefore  to  sin  that  grace  may  abound  ?  Does  the 
greatness  of  the  sinner's  guilt  plead  with  the  greatness 
of  divine  mercy  ?  Never.  Sin  may  draw  down  ven- 
geance from  heaven  on  a  transgressor's  head,  but  never 
has  it  drawn  down  mercy  and  grace. 

Why  then,  it  may  again  be  asked,  was  Peter  thus 
singled  out  and  honoured  ?  We  have  hitherto  taken 
only  a  partial  view  of  his  conduct  and  character ;  let 
us  more  closely  examine  them. 

Peter  was  not  only  a  great  and  scandalous  sinner, 
he  was  also  a  penitent,  mourning  sinner.  Scarcely  had 
he  denied  Jesus  in  the  hall  of  Pilate,  when  a  look  of 
love  and  pity  from  his  injured  master  melted  his  heart, 
and  filled  him  with  the  deepest  penitence  and  grief. 
We  do  not  see  him  trifling  with  sin,  making  light  of 
his  transgression,  and  attempting  to  excuse  or  palliate 
it.  We  do  not  find  him  comforting  himself  with  the 
thought  that  he  was  a  disciple  of  Christ,  and  therefore 
might  sin  without  fear ;  that  though  a  heinous  trans- 
gressor, he  was  a  child  of  God,  and  could  not  be  finally 
cast  away.     We  see  in  him  nothing  but  self-loathing 


84  The  News  of  Christ's 

and  contrition,  sorrow  and  tears.  Saint  Matthew  says 
that  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly  ;  and  Clement,  an 
ancient  Christian  writer,  relates,  that  throughout  all  his 
future  days,  every  morning  when  he  heard  the  cock 
crow,  he  fell  down  on  his  knees  ;  and  with  tears 
streaming  from  his  eyes,  supplicated  pardon  for  his 
dreadful  sin. 

Here  then  we  see  that  it  was  not  the  guilty  Peter, 
who  was  thus  honoured  ;  it  was  the  mourning,  contrite 
Peter.  It  was  not  his  cursing  and  oaths,  which  brought 
this  mercy  to  him,  but  his  penitence  and  tears.  There 
is  no  comfort  then  in  this  Scripture  for  the  careless, 
hardened  sinner  ;  no  comfort  for  the  self-righteous  sin- 
ner ;  no  comfort  for  the  man,  who,  in  the  midst  of  his 
iniquity,  feels  no  self-abhorrence,  no  deep  contrition 
for  his  guilt.  There  is  no  comfort  for  such  characters 
as  these  ;  but  there  is  the  sweetest  comfort  for  the 
broken-hearted,  contrite  transgressor.  If  there  be  such 
a  sinner  here,  may  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  enable 
him  to  derive  peace  and  hope  from  this  instance  of  his 
Saviour's  love !  May  he  draw  water  with  joy  out  of 
this  well  of  consolation  ! 

II.  That  those  among  us,  who  are  thus  mourning 
for  sin  may  be  cheered  and  strengthened,  let  us  pro- 
ceed to  consider,  secondly,  the  author  of  this  message, 
the  gracious  Being,  who  sent  it  to  this  fallen  disci- 
ple. We  are  told  that  it  was  brought  to  the  women 
by  an  angel;  but  he  brought  it  from  Jesus,  the  risen 
Jesus,  the  same  Jesus,  who  is  now  seated  on  the  throne 
of  Jehovah,  and  who  will  one  day  come  in  the  clouds 
of  heaven  to  be  our  judge. 

1.  Such  a  message  under  such  circumstances 
may  teach  us,  first,  that  Christ  had  Just  the  same  tender 
and  compassionate  heart  after  his  resurrection,  that  he 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  85 

had  before  it.  Death  changed  the  nature  of  his  body  ; 
the  corruptible  temple  was  made  an  incorruptible  build- 
ing ;  but  death  did  not  make  the  least  change  in  his 
heart  ;  it  did  not  alter  the  dispositions  of  his  soul.  We 
saw  him  before  his  crucifixion  weeping  at  the  tomb  of 
Lazarus,  and  shedding  tears  over  the  impending  misc*. 
ries  of  Jerusalem  ;  and  now  after  his  resurrection  from 
the  dead,  we  see  that  his  first  concern  is  not  to  receive 
the  congratulations  of  his  friends^  nor  to  put  to  shame 
the  boasting  of  his  enemies,  but  to  dry  the  tears  of  a 
fallen  disciple,  and  to  speak  peace  to  his  troubled  souh 

Here  then  every  spiritually-minded  Christian  may 
find  a  spring  of  consolation.  Jesus,  my  Saviour,  h(?, 
who  measures  out  to  me  my  daily  portion  of  sickness 
and  of  health,  of  sorrows  and  of  joys ;  he,  who  is  ever 
appearing  as  my  advocate  at  the  throne  of  my  God ; 
this  Jesus  has  the  same  compassionate  heart,  that  he 
had  on  earth.  He  can  still  enter  as  deeply  into  all  the 
feelings  of  my  fearful,  fainting  soul.  He  is  still  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  my  infirmities.  He  still  looks 
on  his  saints  with  the  same  sympathy,  tenderness, 
and  love. 

2.  The  message  sent  to  Peter  shews  us,  secondly, 
that  the  risen  Jesus  looks  more  upon  the  graces,  than 
upon  the  sins  of  the  penitent  Christian.  He  seems  to 
have  thought  more  of  Peter's  sorrow,  than  of  his 
curses  ;  more  of  his  tears,  than  of  his  oaths.  Thus  too 
did  he  deal  with  his  servant  Job.  We  read  the  historv^ 
of  his  life,  and  we  see  it  stained  with  much  that  is  evil. 
Complicated  as  his  sufferings  were,  and  great  as  was  the 
submission  which  he  manifested  under  them,  we  are 
at  seasons  almost  disposed  to  condemn  him  for  his 
murmurings,  rather  than  to  admire  him  for  his  patience. 
And  yet  we  do  not  find  God  condemning  this  man. 


86  The  Kews  of  Christ's 

He  calls  him  a  perfect  and  an  upright  man ;  and  when 
his  friends  impeach  his  integrity,  he  descends  in  a 
whirlwind  from  heaven  to  reprove  their  injustice,  and 
to  vindicate  the  character  of  his  servant.  After  the  lapse 
of  a  thousand  years  we  find  him  exercising  the  same 
tender  mercy  towards  this  sorrovvful  saint.  He  calls 
upon  us  by  his  apostle  Saint  James  to  remember  the 
patience  of  Job,  while  he  says  not  a  word  of  his  impa- 
tience, his  murmurings,  and  complaints. 

We  know  not  indeed  how  a  Being  of  infinite  purity 
can  thus  look  with  delight  on  any  thing,  which  he  finds 
in  any  sinner's  heart ;  but  the  Scripture  repeatedly  tells 
us  that,  though  tliey  are  sinners,  "  the  Lord  takcth  plea- 
sure in  them  that  fear  him,  in  those  that  hope  in  his 
mercy  ;"  that  the  Redeemer  is  satisfied  with  the  travail 
of  his  soul ;  that  he  delights  in  the  graces  of  his  church, 
and  greatly  desires  her  beauty.  The  reason  may  be 
that  he  sees  so  much  of  the  desperate  wickedness  of 
our  hearts,  as  to  make  him  contemplate  with  pleasure 
the  least  good,  that  his  grace  enables  us  to  bring  forth. 
The  natural  barrenness  of  the  soil  may  lead  him  to 
admire  the  fruit  it  produces.  Who  would  not  value  a 
flower,  which  he  should  find  blooming  on  a  rock,  or 
throwing  its  fragrance  over  the  sands  of  a  desert  ? 

Though  we  cannot  comprehend  all  the  riches  of  Je- 
hovah's love,  we  may  however  believe  the  plain  decla- 
rations of  his  word.  He  tells  us  there,  that  "  a  book  of 
remembrance  is  written  before  him,  for  them  that  fear 
him  and  think  upon  his  name."  He  tells  us  too,  that 
though  he  does  not  remember  the  sins  of  his  people, 
he  records  in  this  book,  all  their  graces  ;  that  there  is 
not  a  desire  in  the  heart  of  the  humble,  which  he  does 
not  regard  ;  that  he  sees  the  tears  of  the  contrite,  and 
treasures  them  up  as  though  they  were  precious  pearls ; 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  87 

that  they  cannot  give  even  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  one 
of  his  children,  but  he  looks  on  then  with  an  eye  of 
love,  and  lays  up  for  ihern  a  reward.  While  he  sees 
such  things  as  these  in  his  people,  he  will  not  cast  them 
away  on  account  of  the  sinful  infirmities,  which  still 
cleave  to  them.  He  will  not  despise  the  gold,  because 
it  is  not  wholly  purified  from  the  dross.  He  will  not 
burn  the  wheat,  because  it  is  still  mixed  with  the 
chaiF. 

Are  we  then  to  conclude  that  God  sees  no  sin  in  lus 
people,  or  that,  seeing  their  sin,  he  is  not  displeased  by- 
it  ?  Are  we  to  suppose  that  he  is  an  indifferent  specta- 
tor of  their  transgressions,  or  become  altogether  blind 
to  them  ?  God  forbid.  Such  a  conclusion  would  mili- 
tate against  some  of  the  plainest  declarations  of  hip 
word,  as  well  as  against  the  whole  course  of  his  deal- 
ings with  his  church.  It  would  impeach  the  perfection 
of  his  divine  nature,  his  unalterable  omniscience,  and 
his  infinite  holiness.  If  there  could  be  sin  in  one  of  his 
creatures,  and  he  not  see  it ;  if  there  could  be  sin  in  any 
part  of  the  universe,  and  he  not  displeased  at  it :  he 
would  cease  to  be  the  God  of  the  Bible,  and  we  should 
be  without  a  revelation  of  his  will.  Both  his  word  and 
providence  would  be  alike  a  riddle  and  a  cheat.  O  could 
the  afflicted  Jacob,  the  mourning  David,  the  dyijig 
Moses,  or  the  weeping  Peter,  hear  som.e  modern  pro- 
fessors  of  the  gospel  speak  of  that  bitter  thing,  wlwch 
planted  so  many  stings  in  their  hearts,  and  drew  down 
so  many  sorrows  on  their  heads ;  how  would  they  won- 
der and  tremble  !  They  would  tell  us,  in  cppositio5»  to 
all  the  cunningly  devised  systems  of  man,  that  none  of 
the  sins  of  his  people  pass  unnoticed  by  God,  no,  iior 
yet  unpunished;  that  although  he  may  shew  himself 
unbounded  in  mercy  towards  them,  he  will  make  tliem 


88  The  Xews  of  Christ's 

feel  that  he  is  a  holy  Saviour,  and   force  the  world  to 
see  that  he  hates  their  iniquities. 

The  Almighty,  my  brethren,  has  ever  visited  the 
transgressions  of  his  children  with  the  rod,  and  their 
iniquity  with  stripes.  Thus  has  it  been  in  every  age 
and  with  every  member  of  his  church,  and  thus  it  was 
in  the  instance  before  us.  Christ  sends  to  Peter  a  mes- 
sap;e  of  comfort ;  but  did  he  suffer  his  sin  to  pass  un- 
noticed and  unpunished  ?  No  ;  he  has  recorded  it  to 
his  everlasting  shame  in  his  holy  word.  Even  to  this 
very  day,  wherever  his  gospel  was  preached  throughout 
1;he  whole  world,  there  also  the  falsehood  and  treachery 
•of  his  disciple  are  known  and  published.  The  sin  is 
forgiven,  but  the  remembrance  and  the  shame  of  it 
:5till  remain. 

3.  We  may  observe,  further,  that  Jesus  sometimes 
•vouchsafes  to  the  believer^  who  is  bowed  down  with  ex- 
traordinary sorrow^  more  than  ordinary  comfort.  He, 
who  is  the  comforter  of  his  church,  singles  him  out  as 
the  particular  object  of  his  grace,  and  stoops  down  from 
heaven  to  bind  up  his  broken  heart.  A  joyful  message 
is  sent  to  all  the  sorrowful  disciples,  but  Peter  is  pecu- 
liarly a  mourner,  and  he  receives  from  his  master  a 
special  and  more  personal  message  of  joy.  Such  a 
message  seemed  necessary  to  restore  him  to  his  former 
peace.  It  is  not  a  light  thing,  that  will  quiet  the  con- 
science of  the  penitent  Christian,  after  he  has  been 
ov<srcome  by  temptation.  The  storm,  which  sin  occa- 
sions in  his  soul  cannot  easily  be  soothed  into  a  calm. 
T!  le  wells  of  salvation,  from  which  he  had  before  drawn 
water  with  joy,  seem  now  to  be  utterly  empty  or 
barred  up  against  him ;  all  the  common  means  of  com- 
fort: have  lost  their  power;  and  the  mourning  Christian 
vvaats  some  special  interposition  of  grace  and  mercy, 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  89 

before  he  can  again  cherish  in  his  heart  a  hope  of  par- 
don and  acceptance. 

In  the  mysterious  riches  of  his  goodness,  the  Lord 
sometimes  vouchsafes  to  his  saints,  in  such  seasons  as 
these,  peculiar  consolations.  He  recalls  their  soul, 
tossed  with  tempests  and  not  comforted,  from  the  con- 
templation of  its  own  depravity,  and  tells  it  to  look 
again  with  the  eye  of  faith  on  the  cross  of  his  Son.  In 
the  midst  of  their  sighing  and  tears,  he  leads  them  to 
their  Saviour ;  enables  them  to  cast  on  him  the  heavy 
burden  of  their  sin ;  and  leaves  them  rejoicing  in  his 
salvation.  He  does  not  indeed  hastily  chase  away  their 
sorrows ;  they  are  often  left  to  feel  much  of  the  bitter- 
ness of  their  sin,  and  to  mourn  long  over  its  shame ; 
but,  in  the  end,  the  clouds  and  darkness,  which  trans- 
gression has  spread  over  their  souls,  are  generally  dis- 
persed ;  the  day-star  arises  in  their  hearts,  and  the  night 
of  their  mourning  is  ended.  Year  after  year  the  fallen 
David  had  his  sin  ever  before  him,  and  watered  his 
couch  with  his  tears ;  and  yet  a  God  of  pardoning 
mercy  met  him  at  length,  and  spoke  peace  to  his  soul. 
These  were  the  last  words  of  David,  the  son  of  Jesse, 
"  Although  my  house  be  not  so  with  God,  yet  he  hath 
made  with  me  an  everlasting  covenant,  ordered  in  all 
things  and  sure  ;  for  this  is  all  my  salvation,  and  all  my 
desire." 

4.  By  sending  to  his  fallen  disciple  this  message, 
Jesus  reminds  us  also,  that  the  contrite  sinner  may 
draw  much  comfort  and  hope  from  his  resurrection > 
What  was  the  joyful  message  that  he  sent  to  Peter  ? 
It  was  this,  that  he  was  risen  from  the  dead  Peter  also, 
in  the  first  chapter  of  his  first  epistle,  seems  to  make  a 
distant  allusion  to  the  means,  by  which  his  heart  was 
restored  to  its  wonted  peace,  ^'  Blessed,"  says  he.  "  be 

M     ■ 


90  The  Kews  of  Christ's 

the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which- 
according  to  his  abundant  mercy,  hath  begotten  us 
again  unlo  a  lively  hope  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ  from  the  dead."  This  too  was  the  salutation, 
with  which  the  primitive  Christians  cheered  each  other 
under  their  sufferings ;  on  the  morning  of  every  sab- 
bath, these  joyful  words  were  heard  in  their  assemblies 
from  every  mouth,  *'  The  Lord  is  risen."  How  is  it 
then,  brethren,  that  we  draw  so  little  comfort  from  a 
fountain,  from  which  these  early  saints  drew  so  much  ? 
The  great  reason  is,  we  do  not  go  for  it  there  ;  we  do 
not  endeavour  to  know  the  power  of  the  Saviour's  re- 
surrection ;  we  do  not  understand  its  importance,  nor 
feel  its  efficacy.  If  it  were  duly  considered  by  us,  pro- 
perly understood,  and  effectually  applied  by  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  our  minds,  we  should  see  that  it  is  able  to 
cheer  the  most  dejected  soul,  and  to  put  life  and  spirit 
into  the  faintest  heart. 

in.  Let  us  now  take  a  hasty  view  of  the  messengers, 
who  were  employed  to  bear  this  message  from  Jesus  to 
his  sorrowful  disciple. 

1.  It  was  entrusted  first  to  an  angel.  Saint  Mark 
describes  him  as  a  young  man,  but  Saint  Matthew  calls 
him  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  But  why  should  an  angel 
be  called  on  to  carry  such  a  message  as  this  ?  The  feet 
of  the  meanest  messenger  with  these  glad  tidings  of 
good,  would  have  appeared  beautiful  upon  the  moun- 
tains; and  he  would  have  been  hailed  with  acclamations 
of  joy.  It  pleased  Jesus  however  to  entrust  the  news 
of  his  resurrection  to  a  heavenly  messenger.  He  had 
heard  the  multitude  of  his  heavenly  hosts  exulting  with 
joy,  when  they  were  allowed  to  make  known  his  birth 
to  the  wondering  shepherds ;  he  had  witnessed  their 
sympathy  in  the  wilderness,  in  the  garden,  and  proba. 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  91 

bly  at  the  cross ;  and  now  he  singles  out  one  from  their 
number  to  proclaim  his  triumph  over  death  and  the 
grave.  Neither  was  it  a  common  angel,  that  he  chose  ; 
it  was  ^'  the  angel  of  the  Lord,"  his  own  angel,  the 
highest  and  most  favoured  archangel  in  his  courts. 

Mark  too  how  this  dignified  messenger  seems  to  re- 
joice in  his  work,  and  to  think  himself  honoured  by  it. 
He  descends  from  heaven  to  take  his  station  at  the 
tomb,  as  one  bringing  the  news  of  a  triumph,  and  ar- 
rayed in  its  emblems.  "  His  countenance  was  like 
lightning,  and  his  raiment,"  like  a  conqueror's  robe, 
"  was  white  as  snow." 

Now  this  glorious  spirit  was  employed  on  this  occa- 
sion by  Jesus,  not  only  to  do  honour  to  himself,  but  to 
teach  us  a  lesson.  He  would  teach  us  by  it,  that  the 
breach  between  us  and  the  angels  is  healed.  The  angels 
v/ere  originally  the  friends  of  the  inhabitants  of  earth. 
They  had  different  places  of  residence,  but  they  were 
the  children  of  the  same  common  parent  and  members 
of  the  same  family,  and  there  was  between  them  and 
us  a  sweet  communion  and  friendship.  But  when  man 
by  his  disobedience  forfeited  the  favour  of  God,  he  lost 
the  love  of  the  angels.  Sin  dis-united  heaven  and  earth, 
destroyed  the  harmony  between  them,  and  put  an  end 
to  their  intercourse.  This  separation  however  was  not 
an  eternal  one.  We  are  no  sooner  reccnciled  to  God 
by  the  blood  of  his  Son,  than  we  become  reconciled  to 
the  angels  also.  As  holy  and  faithful  beings,  they  were 
constrained  to  take  part  with  the  Almighty  in  his  con- 
troversy with  man,  and  they  now  rejoice  to  welcome 
the  returning  rebels  back  again  to  his  family.  Hence 
says  the  apostle,  when  speaking  of  the  Redeemer,  ^*  It 
pleased  the  Father  that  in  him  should  all  fulness  dwell ; 
and,  having  made  peace  through  the  blood  of  his  cross. 


92  The  News  of  Christ's 

by  him  to  reconcile  all  things  unto  himself;  by  him,  I 
say,  whether  they  be  things  in  earth  or  things  in  hea- 
ven." The  angels  therefore  again  regard  us  as  friends, 
and  love  us  as  brethren.  Nay  more ;  they  are  made  our 
ministering  servants,  and  do  not  disdain  the  office.  We 
are  told  that  they  are  tscnt  forth  to  minister  unto  them, 
who  are  heirs  of  salvation. 

And  is  it  not  a  cheering  reflection,  brethren,  that  in 
all  our  trials,  sorrows,  and  difficulties,  not  only  is  Jesus 
with  us,  but  his  angels  also  are  round  about  us,  and 
ready  to  guard  and  help  us ;  the  same  angels,  that  fed 
Elijah  in  tl^.e  wilderness,  that  released  Peter  from  pri- 
son, that  cheered  Paul  in  the  storm,  and  comforted  and 
strengthened  the  Saviour  in  the  hour  of  his  agony  ? 

But  this  thought  is  serious  as  well  as  cheering.  Am  I 
always  surrounded  by  the  holy  angels  of  God?  Are  they 
the  constant  witnesses  of  my  conduct  ?  Do  they  see  all  the 
actions  of  my  sinful  life,  and  hear  all  the  words  of  my 
unclean  lips  ?  O  how  often  then  have  1  grieved  them, 
and  wounded  their  souls  !  Into  what  scenes  and  into 
what  society  have  I  taken  them  !  O  let  me  for  the  fu- 
ture reverence  my  heavenly  attendants !  Let  me  watch 
my  actions,  and  words,  and  thoughts,  that  I  may  grieve 
them  no  more.  Never  let  me  dare  to  lead  them  again 
into  scenes  of  vanity  and  sin. 

We  may  learn  also  from  the  appearance  of  an  angel 
on  this  occasion,  tliat  the  coritrife  sinne?'  is  peculiarly 
an  object  of  love  to  the  heavenly  hosts.  We  are  told 
that  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  a  sinner  that  repenteth, 
and  here  is  a  confirmation  of  the  saying.  The  angel  of 
the  Lord  has  compassion  on  the  weeping  Peter,  and 
rejoices  to  take  to  him  a  cup  of  consolation.  What  a 
lesson  for  ministers,  what  a  lesson  for  every  Christian, 
s  here  !  It  is  a  heavenly  work  to  comfort  the  sorrowful 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  93 

and  afflicted.  The  angels  delight  in  it ;  they  arc  willing 
to  leave  heaven  to  be  employed  in  it.  Shall  \vc  then  de- 
spise it  ?  Shall  we  turn  away  from  the  brother,  who  is 
mourning  for  sin,  and  leave  no  word  of  comfort  behind 
us?  No.  Let  us  bear  one  another's  spiritual  burdens, 
and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ.  Let  us  take  up  the  words 
of  the  angel,  and  say  to  all,  who  are  broken  in  heart 
and  enquiring  for  rest  and  a  Saviour,  "  Fear  not  ye; 
for  I  know  that  ye  seek  Jesus,  which  was  crucified." 

2.  But  the  angel  of  the  Lord  was  not  the  only  mes- 
senger employed  to  convey  the  news  of  Christ's  resur- 
rection to  Peter.  Three  poor  women  receive  the  mes- 
sage from  the  lips  of  this  heavenly  herald,  and  carry  it 
to  the  mourning  disciple. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  Christ  would  have 
made  known  his  resurrection  first  to  Pilate  and  Herod, 
who  had  crucified  him,  and  to  the  Jews,  who  had  re- 
jected him.  He  would  thus  have  convinced  them  of 
their  guilt,  and  wiped  off  the  scandal  of  his  cross.  But 
if  the  punishment  of  his  enemies  and  the  vindication 
of  his  own  character  seem  for  a  season  to  be  forgotten ^ 
we  shall  surely  find  the  risen  Jesus  anxious  to  put  ho- 
nour upon  his  disciples,  and  shewing  himself  first  to 
them.  But  no ;  the  first  tidings  they  hear  of  his  triumph 
come  from  Mary  Magdalene  and  from  two  other  wo- 
men, as  mean  as  she.  O  what  a  reproof  must  this  haye 
been,  not  only  to  Peter,  but  to  all  the  disciples  ;  and 
how  richly  had  they  merited  it!  Peter  had  denied  him, 
and  they  had  all  forsaken  him  and  fled.  But  these  faith- 
ful women  had  never  deserted  him.  Throughout  his 
life  they  were  ever  near  him  and  ministered  to  his 
wants ;  and  in  his  death  nothing  could  divide  them  from 
him.  With  a  fortitude  which  fills  us  with  admiration 
and  surprise,  they  stood  near  his  cross,  witnessed  his 


d^  The  JsTews  of  Christ's 

agonies,  and  heard  his  dying  groan.  After  his  death, 
none  of  the  cowardly  apostles  came  near  the  mangled 
body  of  their  master,  but  these  women  assisted  at  his 
burial  and  followed  him  to  the  grave.  And  when  his 
funeral  was  over,  they  sat  down  over  against  his  sepul-/ 
chre  to  weep,  and  could  only  be  prevailed  on  to  leave 
it  by  the  duties  of  the  sabbath.  Neither  was  their  la- 
bour of  love  yet  ended.  In  the  end  of  the  sabbath,  as  it 
began  to  dawn  towards  the  first  day  of  the  week,  the  very 
first  moment  their  duty  to  God  allowed  them  to  testify 
their  affection  for  their  friend,  we  see  them  going  again 
to  his  sepulchre  with  sweet  spices,  that  they  might 
anoint  him. 

Here  then  we  may  perceive  the  reason,  why  these 
three  women  were  thus  distinguished  by  Jesus.  They 
had  been  first  in  love  and  affection,  and  service  for 
Christ ;  it  was  but  right  therefore,  that  they  should  be 
first  in  honour  and  reward.  "  Them  that  honour  me," 
saith  the  Lord,  "  I  will  honour;  and  they  that  despise 
me,  shall  be  lightly  esteemed." 

There  is  something  remarkable  too,  in  the  hasty 
manner  in  wliich  these  women  were  sent  with  the 
tidinsfs  of  Christ's  resurrection  to  Peter.     We  are  told 

o 

by  Saint  Matthew,  that  the  angel  invited  them  to  attend 
the  sepulchre  of  their  risen  Lord,  and  to  see  the  place 
where  he  lay  ;  but  scarcely  had  they  taken  a  glance  at 
the  empty  tomb,  when  they  were  hastily  sent  away  from 
it.  *'  Go  your  way,"  said  the  angel,  **  go  quickly  and 
tell  his  disciples  and  Peter,  that  he  is  risen  from  the 
dead."  They  accordingly  "departed  quickly  from  the 
sepulchre  with  fear  and  great  joy,  and  did  run  to  bring 
his  disciples  word."  Why  then  were  these  women  thus 
hastily  dismissed?  There  was  nothing  sinful  in  the 
feelings,  which  a  view  of  the  tomb  of  their  Saviour 


Resurrection  sent  to  Peter.  90 

was  likely  to  excite  ;  but  they  were  not  suiFered  to  stay 
there  to  indulge  them,  that  we  might  be  taught  that 
pious  feelings  must  lead  to  pious  actions;  that  reli- 
gious meditation  must  often  give  way  to  the  active  du- 
ties of  life.  It  is  good  and  sweet  to  think  of  Christ,  but 
it  is  better  to  act  for  Christ.  "  He  is  the  best  servant," 
says  an  old  writer,  ^^  not  that  delights  to  stand  in  his 
master's  presence,  but  that  carefully  minds  and  dili- 
gently goes  about  his  master's  business." 

One  active  Christian,  my  brethren,  is  worth  a  thou- 
sand merely  contemplative  admirers  of  the  gospel.  It  is 
the  working  servant,  that  receives  wages  ;  it  is  the  fight- 
ing soldier,  that  has  for  his  reward  a  triumph  and  a 
crown.  Religious  actions  must  indeed  have  their  origin 
in  religious  affections.  The  religion  of  the  gospel  can- 
not live  in  the  heart,  which  has  not  first  learned  to 
think  and  to  feel.  But  then  what  are  those  feelings 
worth,  which  have  no  influence  on  the  disposition  and 
the  conduct  ?  They  may  resemble  the  workings  of  the 
pious  heart,  but  there  is  no  real  piety  in  them,  none  of 
the  power  of  godliness.  It  is  one  thing  to  have  a  stu- 
dious mind  or  a  lively  imagination,  and  another  thing 
to  have  Christ  in  the  soul,  the  hope  of  glory.  It  is  very 
possible  too,  even  when  the  great  realities  of  religion 
have  been  lodged  in  the  mind,  to  raise  one  duty  to  an 
undue  pre-eminence  over  others,  to  give  to  the  exer- 
cises of  devotion  a  portion  of  that  time,  which  ought 
to  be  devoted  to  works  of  charity  and  labours  of  love. 
We  can  never  be  too  earnest  then  in  watching  our 
treacherous  hearts,  and  bringing  all  their  workings  to 
this  simple  standard  of  the  gospel,  '*  By  their  fruits  ye 
shall  know  them."  We  can  never  be  too  earnest  in  our 
endeavours  to  resemble  him,  who  "  went  about  doing- 
good  ;"  in  aiming  to  bring  forth  much  fruit  to  the  glory 
of  God. 


96     The  News  of  Christ's  Resurrection^  &c. 

Go  your  way  then,  you  who,  like  these  women, 
profess  to  seek  a  crucified,  and  to  rejoice  in  a  risen 
Jesus  ;  go  your  way,  you  who,  like  Peter,  know  what  it 
is  to  mourn  for  sin,  and  to  receive  pardon  and  comfortT 
from  a  compassionate  Saviour ;  go  your  way,  and  bind 
up  the  broken  heart,  and  speak  peace  to  the  troubled 
soul ;  go  and  comfort  others  with  the  comforts,  where- 
with you  yourselves  have  been  comforted  of  God ;  go 
and  publish  to  a  world  of  sinners,  by  all  the  means 
which  a  bountiful  Providence  has  placed  within  your 
power,  those  joyful  tidings,  which  have  been  sent  to 
you  in  your  Bibles ;  go  and  send  this  good  news  round 
a  perishing  world,  that  '^  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners  ;  that  whosoever  cometh  to  him 
shall  in  no  wise  be  cast  out ;"  that  all,  who  are  weary 
and  heavy  laden  with  the  burden  of  their  sins  and  sor- 
rows, may  come  to  him  and  find  the  sweetest  rest  to 
their  troubled  souls. 


SERMON  VII. 


^JTHE  HUMILITY  OF  SAINT  PAUL. 


EPHESIANS  111.   8. 

Less  than  the  least  of  all  saints. 

X  HE  man,  who  has  left  us  this  record  of  himself,  was 
one  of  the  holiest  and  most  exalted  saints,  that  ever 
graced  the  Christian  church.  He  seems  to  have  entered 
more  into  the  spirit  of  his  master,  than  any  of  his  fol- 
lowers, and  to  have  received  from  him  more  abundant 
honour.  And  yet  in  the  midst  of  his  attainments,  even 
while  standing  on  the  eminence  to  which  divine  mercy 
had  raised  him,  we  find  this  distinguished  saint  hum- 
bling himself  in  the  dust.  He,  who  has  been  for  ages 
the  delight  and  admiration  of  the  church,  here  styles 
himself  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints ;  and  as  though 
even  this  were  too  honourable  a  name  for  him  to  bear, 
we  see  him,  in  another  place,  abasing  himself  still  more  ; 
he  deems  himself  unworthy  to  be  called  an  apostle,  and 
takes  this  as  his  more  appropriate  title,  *'  The  chief  of 
sinners." 

This  deep  humility  in  an  apostle  of  such  exalted 
eminence  may  well  excite  our  admiration  ;  but  let  not 
admiration  be  its  only  fruit.  It  invites  us  to  go  and  sit 
at  his  feet,  and  learn  of  him.  It  calls  upon  us  to  be 
more  meek  and  lowly  in  heart ;  to  have  a  more  abiding 
sense  of  our  meanness,  unworthiness,  and  guilt ;  to 
walk  more  humbly  with  our  God. 

N 


98  The  Humility  of 

With  these  objects  in  view,  let  us  enquire,  Jirst^  in 
what  the  humility  of  Saint  Paul  consisted;  and  secondly j 
by  what  means  that  spirit  of  self-abasement,  which 
reigned  in  him,  may  be  habitually  maintained  in  our 
own  hearts. 

I.  In  what  did  the  humility  of  Saint  Paul  consist  ? 
How  did  it  manifest  itself?  The  slightest  acquaintance 
with  his  character  leaves  us  no  room  to  suspect,  that  it 
consisted  in  words  only.  There  is  such  an  appearance 
of  honesty  and  integrity  in  his  writings,  that  they  give 
us  at  once  the  fulest  conviction  that  the  humility,  which 
appears  in  his  language,  was  to  be  found  also  in  his 
heart  and  life.  A  reference  to  his  writings  will  con- 
sequently be  just  as  satisfactory,  as  a  reference  to  his 
history,  and  perhaps  as  interesting  and  instructive. 

1.  We  cannot  take  even  the  most  hasty  glance  at 
the  writings  of  this  apostle,  without  at  once  noticing 
the  entire  submission  of  his  mind  to  the  gospel  of  Christ, 
the  simple  and  hearty  reception,  which  he  gave  to  every 
divine  truth.  He  had  naturally  just  the  same  proud 
heart  that  we  have,  and  hated  the  humiliating  doctrines 
connected  with  the  cross  of  Christ,  as  much  as  we 
hate  them.  Nay,  they  were  more  ofi'ensive  to  him,  than 
they  are  to  us.  They  were  opposed,  not  only  to  those 
common  workings  of  pride  which  we  all  feel,  but  to  a 
thousand  prejudices  peculiar  to  himself  or  to  the  age 
and  country,  in  which  he  lived.  He  was  a  Jew,  he 
was  a  scliolar  of  Gamaliel,  he  was  a  man  of  strong 
intellectual  powers;  and  yet  all  the  prejudices  of  the 
Jew,  all  the  pride  of  the  scholar,  and  all  the  dictates 
of  worldly  wisdom  were  torn  out  of  his  heart ;  and  the 
once  proud  and  haughty  Saul  is  seen  sitting  at  the  feet 
of  the  carpenter's  son,  humble  and  teachable  as  a  little 
child.     Read   Iiis  epistles  to  the   Ixomans  and  Gala- 


Saint  Paid.  99 

tians,  brethren,  and  see  how  low  the  grace  of  God  can 
humble  the  proudest  mind.  We  do  not  find  him  en- 
deavouring, in  these  epistles,  „to  accommodate  the 
doctrines  of  the  gospel  to  his  former  opinions,  reduc- 
ing and  qualifying  them  to  make  them  square  with  the 
feelings  of  the  Jew  or  the  pride  of  the  philosopher  ;  he 
receives  them,  in  all  their  humiliating  force,  with  sim- 
plicity and  godly  sincerity.  Every  imagination  and 
every  high  thing,  which  had  so  long  exalted  itself  in 
his  mind  against  the  knowledge  oF  God,  seems  to  be 
utterly  cast  down,  and  every  thought  brought  into  cap- 
tivity to  the  obedience  of  Christ. 

This  entire  submission  of  the  mind  to  God  is  no 
common  attainment.  It  is  no  trifling  change  of  heart, 
no  common  humility,  that  will  lead  a  man  to  it.  We 
love  to  bring  the  declarations  of  God  to  the  standard 
of  our  corrupt  reason  before  we  receive  them.  If 
they  are  opposed  to  this  standard,  we  too  often  endea- 
vour to  wrest  them  from  their  meaning  ;  and  when 
they  will  not  bear  to  be  thus  misinterpreted,  we  do  not 
hesitate  to  disbelieve  and  reject  them.  Thousands, 
who  seem  as  though  they  could  have  triumphed  over 
the  depravity  of  the  flesh,  have  fallen  a  sacrifice  to  the 
corruption  of  their  understandings  and  the  pride  of 
their  foolish  minds. 

2.  The  writings  of  Saint  Paul  prove  the  greatness 
of  his  humility  by  shewing  us,  secondly,  that  the 
highest  spiritual  attainments  could  not  make  him  for- 
get his  meanness  and  guilt.  There  are  indeed  some 
professors  of  the  gospel  risen  up  in  our  day,  who 
would  object  to  such  a  test  of  humility  as  this.  They 
seem  to  regard  it  as  the  very  perfection  of  religion 
to  forget  their  iniquities,  and  to  look  upon  them- 
selves as  spotless  in  the  sight  of  God.     But  mark  the 


400  The  Humility  of 

difference  between  such  professors  and  this  humble 
Paul.  He  knew  as  much  of  the  freeness  and  fulness 
of  redemption  as  any  of  us,  and  had  tasted  as  much  of 
the  savour  of  the  grace  of  Christ.  He  had  been  taken 
up  too  into  the  third  heaven,  and  beheld  there  glori- 
ous revelations,  which  had  never  been  beheld  before 
by  mortal  eye  ;  and  heard  there  unspeakable  words, 
which  it  is  not  lawful  nor  possible  for  a  man  to  utter. 
And  yet  what  was  his  language  ?  What  in  the  midst 
of  these  attainments  and  honours  was  his  opinion  of 
himself?  Did  he  forget  his  sins  ?  Never.  Throughout 
every  period  of  his  life,  his  guilt  seems  as  present  to 
his  mind,  as  at  the  hour  of  his  conversion.  ^'  I  was," 
says  he,  ^'  a  blasphemer,  and  a  persecutor,  and  inju- 
rious." And  lest  we  should  suppose,  that  he  thought 
only  of  his  former  iniquities,  he  says,  '^  I  am  the  chief 
of  sinners,  1  am  carnal,  sold  under  sin." 

The  fact  is,  that  an  enlarged  view  of  the  mercies  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  must  humble  the  soul,  must  re- 
mind it  continually,  not  only  of  its  former  guilt,  but  of 
its  present  vileness.  The  Christian  is  always  the  low- 
est in  his  own  esteem,  when  his  hope  in  divine  grace 
is  the  highest.  He  is  always  the  most  poor  in  himself, 
when  he  sees  himself  the  most  rich  in  Christ. 

3.  The  sense,  which  the  apostle  had  of  his  own  sin- 
fulness, did  not  liovvever  prevent  him  from  seeing  and 
acknowledging  what  divine  grace  had  done  for  his 
soul,  and  what  it  had  enabled  him  to  do  for  God.  He 
sometimes  mentions  these  things  in  his  writings,  but 
he  never  mentions  tiiem  v.'ithout  affording  us  another 
proof  of  his  lowliness  of  heart ;  his  marked  anxiety  to 
give  all  the  ghry  of  all  his  labours  and  attainments  to 
God.  We  never  find  him  taking  any  part  of  the  praise 
fo  himself,  but  always  expressly  disclaiming  it.     He 


Scdnt  Paul,  101 

seems  afraid  of  ascribing  something  to  his  own  merit 
or  power,  and  of  robbing  his  Saviour  of  his  honour. 
Lest  the  glory  of  Jesus  should  be  lessened,  he  takes 
the  crown  of  excellency  oflPhis  own  head,  and,  like  the 
angels  in  heaven,  he  casts  it  down  before  the  throne 
of  the  Lamb,  as  though  he  were  unworthy  and  un- 
willing to  wear  the  meanest  crown  in  his  presence. 
Thus  we  find  him  saying  of  himself,  in  the  fifteenth 
chapter  of  his  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  "  I  am 
the  least  of  the  apostles,  that  am  not  meet  to  be  called 
an  apostle,  because  I  persecuted  the  church  of  God  : 
bat  by, the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  1  am;  and  his 
grace  which  was  bestowed  upon  me,  was  not  in  vain, 
but  I  laboured  more  abundantly  than  they  all ;"  and 
then  he  adds,  as  though  he  had  said  too  much,  '*  Yet 
not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God,  which  was  with  me." 

4,  The  humility  of  Saint  Paul  was  manifested  also 
in  the  low  opinion^  which  he  had  of  himself,  when  com- 
pared with  his  Christian  brethren.  He  speaks  not,  in 
the  text,  the  unmeaning  language  of  compliment,  but 
the  language  of  godly  sincerity.  The  apostle  wrote, 
as  he  felt.  His  lowliness  of  mind  had  really  taught 
him  to  esteem  others  better  than  himself.  When  he 
takes  a  view  of  his  own  character,  he  seems  to  find  in 
himself  nothing  but  infirmity  and  sin  ;  but  when  he 
looks  at  others,  all  their  failings  are  out  of  his  sight, 
and  he  sees  only  their  excellencies. 

This  spirit  of  cliarity  was  the  natural  result  of  the 
apostle's  humility.  The  man,  who  walks  humbly 
with  his  God  will  always  be  distinguished  by  it;  he 
will  always  deem  his  own  guilt  peculiarly  aggravated, 
-and  greater  than  that  of  any  of  his  brethren.  The  rea- 
son is  obvious.  He  sees  the  iniquity,  which  dwells  in 
his  own  heart,  while  the  corruptions;  that  are  struggling 


103  The  Hinnility  of 

in  the  hearts  of  others  are  hidden  from  his  view.  He 
has  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  sins  of  his  own  life, 
but  a  remote  and  slight  view  of  the  sinful  conduct  of 
others.  A  wounded  man  feels  the  pain  of  his  own 
wound,  while  he  can  only  guess  at  the  pain  of  his  suffer- 
ing neighbour.  Hence  we  find,  that  true  humility, 
while  it  brings  to  light  our  own  sins,  is  ever  sure  to 
cover  a  multitude  of  the  sins  of  other.  The  man,  who 
is  the  most  sensible  of  his  own  failings,  will  always  be 
heard  to  talk  the  least  of  the  failings  of  others.  It  is 
the  proud  man,  the  proud  professor  of  the  gospel,  who 
is  the  reviling  man,  the  censorious  professor.  Pride 
takes  a  pleasure  in  bringing  to  light  the  infirmities  of 
others,  that  itself  may  be  exalted  ;  while  humility  de- 
lights in  contemplating  their  excellencies,  that  it  may 
be  laid  by  them  still  lower  in  the  dust,  and  be  led  to 
imitate  their  graces. 

5.  The  humility  of  Saint  Paul  consisted,  lastly,  in 
his  simple  dependence  upon  Christ.  If  ever  man  had 
any  thing  in  himself,  in  which  he  might  safely  hope, 
it  was  surely  this  apostle.  Read  the  account  he  gives 
us  of  himself  before  his  conversion.  ""  Circumcised," 
says  he,  '^  the  eighth  day  ;  of  the  stock  of  Israel ;  of 
the  tribe  of  Benjamin  ;  a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews ; 
as  touching  the  law,  a  Pharisee ;  concerning  zeal, 
persecuting  the  church  ;  touching  the  righteousness, 
which  is  in  the  law,  blameless." 

And  what  had  he  to  boast  of  after  divine  grace  had 
brought  him  to  a  knowledge  of  the  gospel  ?  If  we 
would  obtain  an  answer  to  this  enquiry,  we  must  not 
refer  merely  to  his  journeyings  and  labours  in  the 
cause  of  Christ,  to  his  weariness  and  painfulness,  his 
watchings  and  fastings,  his  hunger  and  thirst,  his  cold 
and  nakedness :    we   must   ascend   into   heaven,  and 


Saint  PaiiL  103 

count  the  number  of  those  rejoicing  saints,  who, 
through  his  means,  have  been  saved  from  destruction ; 
we  must  estimate  the  glory,  which  their  redemption 
will  for  ever  throw  around  the  throne  of  Jehovah. 
When  we  have  done  this,  we  shall  know  something 
of  what  Saint  Paul  had  to  lean  on.  And  yet  what  is 
itj  that  we  find  him  actually  depending  on,  actually 
hoping  in  ?  His  graces  as  a  Christian  ?  His  labours 
as  an  apostle  ?  His  success  as  a  minister  ?  His  soul 
seems  to  shrink  from  the  very  thought.  We  find 
in  him  the  most  simple  trust,  the  most  undivided  re- 
liance on  the  free  mercy  of  his  Saviour.  He  seeks  the 
salvation  of  his  soul,  as  though  he  were  indeed  the 
greatest  of  sinners,  the  vilest  of  the  cliildren  of  men. 

The  source  of  this  simple  reliance  on  Christ  must 
be  sought  for  in  that  humility,  in  that  deep  and  abid- 
ing sense  of  his  own  unworthiness  which  the  Holy 
Spirit  had  lodged  in  the  apostle's  heart.  This  was 
the  one  great  reason,  why  all  the  powers  of  his  mind, 
and  all  the  strength  of  his  body,  were  employed  in 
making  known  the  salvation  of  the  cross  ;  this  was 
the  reason,  why  he  endeavoured  with  so  much  fear 
and  trembling  to  secure  it  for  himself; — he  felt,  more 
perhaps  than  any  other  sinner  ever  felt,  his  wretched- 
ness, his  helplessness  without  it.  It  was  this,  which 
made  him  so  cheerfully  suffer  the  loss  of  all  things, 
that  he  might  win  Christ.  It  was  this,  which  made 
him  so  anxious  to  renounce  all  confidence  in  his  own 
righteousness  and  seek  so  earnestly  that  righteous- 
ness, which  is  through  the  fliith  of  Christ.  It  was  this, 
which  made  him  glory  so  much  in  the  cross  of  Jesus, 
and  desire  so  ardently  to  be  found  in  him. 

Without  this  deep  conviction  of  our  guilty  and 
helpless  state,  and  that  humility  of  spirit  which  flows 


104<  The  Humility  of 

from  it,  all  that  Christ  has  done  and  suffered  for  sin- 
ners will  profit  us  nothing.  Our  proud  hearts  will 
never  stoop  to  accept  his  terms  of  salvation.  We  shall 
either  scoff  at  his  gospel,  and  openly  trample  upon  the 
blood  which  gives  efficacy  to  its  promises,  or  we  shall 
corrupt  and  disfii^ure  it.  We  shall  not  love  it  in  its 
simplicity.  In  one  shape  or  other,  self  will  be  intro- 
duced into  it,  and  made  the  ground  of  our  confidence. 
We  may  have  too  much  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures 
to  think  of  purchasing  the  glories  of  heaven  by  the 
decency  of  our  conduct,  or  the  benevolence  of  our 
hearts,  or  the  usefulness  of  our  lives  ;  but  we  may 
place  the  same  self-righteous  dependence  in  fancied 
excellencies  of  another  kind,  that  our  brethren  around 
us  are  placing  in  these.  We  may  rest  our  hope  of 
acceptance  with  God  on  our  faith,  our  knowledge  of 
the  gospel,  our  convictions  of  sin,  our  frames  and  feel- 
ings, or  even  on  our  pretended  humility  ;  and  as  ef- 
fectually ruin  our  souls,  as  though  we  hoped  for  sal- 
vation from  our  alms-giving  and  prayers.  Nothing  but 
a  heart-felt  sense  of  our  sinfulness  and  wretchedness 
will  lead  us  to  the  cross  of  Jesus,  and  keep  us  near  it. 
Dependence  on  Christ  must  flow  from  humility  of 
heart.  If  we  are  destitute  of  the  one,  we  shall  be  des- 
titute also  of  the  other.  We  must  know  our  need  and 
our  danger,  before  we  shall  seek  a  remedy  or  look 
around  for  help.  It  is  the  sick  man,  who  applies  to  a 
physician  ;  it  is  the  man,  who  feels  that  he  cannot  heal 
himself,  that  lets  his  physician  do  with  him  whatsoever 
he  will ;  it  is  the  man,  who  feels  the  pain  of  his  sick- 
ness the  most  severely,  that  goes  to  his  physician  the 
most  frequently, 

II.  These  then  are  some  of  the  marks  of  true  hu- 
mility, which  may  be  traced  in  the  character  of  Saint 


Saint  Paul,  105 

Paul.  Other  proofs  of  the  lowliness  of  his  mind 
might  be  mentioned,  but  we  must  proceed  to  enquire, 
secondly,  by  what  means  that  spirit  of  self-abasement, 
which  reigned  in  his  heart,  may  be  habitually  main- 
tained in  our  own. 

But  in  making  this  enquiry  and  others  of  a  similar 
nature,  let  us  never  forget  that  in  spiritual  things  we 
have  no  power  in  ourselves  to  do  any  thing  as  of  our- 
selves. We  are  not  able  to  plant  a  single  grace  in_ 
our  hearts ;  and  when  any  spiritual  seed  has  been  plant- 
ed there,  we  have  no  power  to  preserve  it  alive,  and 
cause  it  to  bring  forth  fruit.  Every  grace  is  the  gift 
of  God,  his  free  gift,  a  gift  as  freely  bestowed,  as  the 
rain  that  comes  down  from  heaven.  If  then  we  ima- 
gine that  we  can  humble  our  own  proud  hearts  by  our 
own  strength,  we  shall  be  disappointed.  That  pride, 
which  is  the  curse  of  our  nature,  has  struck  its  roots 
too  deeply  within  us,  for  any  human  arm  to  pluck  it 
thence. 

But  though  we  are  thus  weak  and  impotent  in  our- 
selves, the  Holy  Spirit  generally  works  his  purposes 
of  grace  by  the  use  of  means,  and  through  these  means 
he  allows,  yea,  he  commands  us  to  seek  his  grace. 
We  have  then  ample  encouragement  to  endeavour  to 
stretch  forth  the  withered  arm.  The  invitations  and 
commands  of  the  Almighty  afford  us  the  strongest  as- 
surance, that  he  is  at  this  very  moment  seated  on  a 
throne  of  grace,  waiting  there  to  be  gracious,  and 
ready  to  pour  down  his  richest  spiritual  gifts  on  the 
head  of  every  praying  sinner.  Are  we  then  eairnestly 
desiring  a  more  humble  frame  of  mincl '?  Let  us  lift 
up  our  eyes  to  those  everlasting  hills,  from  wlience 
cometh  our  help.  Let  us  seek  it  of  God  ;  and  entreat 
him  to  bestow  it  on  us  through  those  means  and  chan- 

O 


106  The  Humility  of 

nels  in  which  his  servant  Saint  Paul  sought  and  ob- 
tained it,  and  through  which  he  is  hourly  bestowing  it 
on  a  thousand  seeking  hearts. 

1.  One  of  these  means  must  immediately  occur  to 
our  minds ;  it  is  this,  a  frequent  remembrance  of  our 
former  iniquities^  and  an  abiding  sense  of  our  present 
corruptions^  This  consciousness  of  guilt  was  not  only 
one  of  the  effects  of  Saint  Paul's  humility  ;  it  was  the 
principal  root,  from  which  it  sprung.  In  the  midst 
of  his  greatness,  he  remembered  Saul  of  Tarsws,  and 
was  humbled.  He  thought  of  the  infirmities  which 
still  cleaved  to  him.  and  was  constrained  to  abase  him- 
self before  his  God. 

We  are  much  inclined  to  turn  away  from  this  con- 
templation of  our  sinfulness.  It  is  humiliating,  it  is 
painful  to  us,  and  we  endeavour  to  persuade  ourselves 
that  it  is  unnecessary.  Because  God  has  graciouly 
promised  to  deal  with  us  as  though  he  remembered  our 
iniquities  no  more,  we  are  tempted  to  think  that  he  has 
really  forgotten  them,  and  that  we  need  no  longer  have 
them  in  remembrance.  Here  however  we  err.  The 
redeemed  and  sanctified  servant  of  God  has  just  as 
much  need  to  have  a  lively  sense  of  his  transgressions, 
as  the  most  hardened  and  defiled  sinner.  Any  sys- 
tem of  religion,  brethren,  which  tends  in  the  least  de- 
gree to  make  the  soul  regard  itself  in  any  other  light, 
than  as  altogether  vile  and  sinful,  is  not  the  religion 
of  the  Bible.  It  may  seem  on  the  first  view  to  magnify 
the  Saviour,  but  it  will  most  surely  lower  our  concep- 
tions of  him.  It  may  appear  calculated  to  bring  com- 
fort to  the  soul,  but  it  is  much  more  calculated  to 
bring  to  it  perplexity,  conceit,  and  pride.  The  sim- 
ple gospel  of  Christ,  while  it  exalts  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel  in  the  very  highest  degree,  sinks  the  sinner,  even 


Saint  Paul.  107 

the  converted  sinner,  to  the  very  lowest.  Who  ever 
thought  more  highly  of  Christ  than  Paul  ?  and  who 
ever  thought  more  lowly  of  himself? 

However  high  your  attainments  in  religion  may  be, 
look  therefore,  with  this  great  aposde,  to  the  rock, 
whence  ye  were  hewn ;  and  to  the  hole  of  the  pit,  whence 
ye  were  digged.     Think  of  the  many  hours,  and  days, 
and  years,  you  once  spent  in  the  service  of  the  world 
and  of  Satan.     Perhaps  too  you  can  remember  the 
time,  when  you  treated  real  religion  with  ridicule  and 
reproach.     It  opposed  your  sinful  practices,  and  you 
hated  it ;  it  wounded  your  pride,  and  you  scorned  it. 
You  delighted  in  pouring  contempt  on  the  gospel  of 
Christ,  and  on  all,  who  appeared  to  you  really  attached 
to  it.     Think  too  of  the  sins,  by  which  you  have  been 
defiled,  since  you  began  to  seek  after  heavenly  things. 
Has  your  conduct  during  the  latter  years  of  your  life 
been  always  such,  as  becometh  the  gospel  of  Christ  ? 
Have  you  always  v/alked  as  children  of  the  light  ?  Alas, 
no !   Into  how  many  outward  iniquities  have  some  of 
us  fallen,  and  of  how  many  inward  transgressions  arc 
we  all  conscious  !  How  many  unchristian  tempers  too 
have  we  at  seasons  manifested !  A  disgraceful  cata- 
logue of  sins  might  easily  be  enumerated,  that  would 
make  us  appear  hateful  to  ourselves  ;  and  if  our  sins 
are  objects  of  abhorrence  to  ourselves,  what  must  they 
be  to  that  holy  Being,  in  whose  sight  the  heavens  are 
not  clean  ?  He  has  seen  them  ;  he  remembers  them 
all.     "  He  has'^set  our  mis-deeds  before  him,  and  our 
secret  sins  in  the  light  of  his  countenance."     Let  this 
reflection  lead    us  also   to  remember  our   iniquities. 
Let  it  influence  us  to  strive  daily  to  discover  our  own 
imperfections,  what  is  amiss  in  us,  and  wherein  we  are 
defective.     Let  us  think  more  of  what  we  want,  than 


108  The  Humility  of 

of  what  we  have  attained.  Instead  of  bein.^  ready  to 
pride  ourselves  on  our  knowledge  and  goodness,  let 
us  rather  sit  down  and  mourn  that  we  are  still  so  igno- 
rant, sstill  so  corrupt.  Remember,  my  Christian  bre- 
thren, what  you  once  w^ere  ;  remember  what  you  still 
are,  notwithstanding  all  that  divine  grace  has  done  for 
you  ;  and  if  you  can  then  find  cause  for  pride  and 
boasting,  '^  Your  spot  is  not  the  spot  of  my  children," 
saith  t!ie  Lord. 

2.  If  we  would  habitually  maintain  an  humble  frame 
of  mind,  we  must  have  a  lively  sense  of  the  freeness  and 
fulness  ofcUvine  mercy,  of  that  mercy,  which  God  has 
bestowed  upon  us  through  his  Son.  Saint  Paul  had 
tasted  of  this  mercy.  It  had  enriched  his  soul,  and 
made  him  the  most  zealous  preacher  of  its  glad  tidings, 
that  ever  graced  the  church  of  God.  He  seems  to  have 
had  deeper  and  more  enlarged  views  of  its  unsearchable 
riches,  than  any  other  saint ;  and  yet  never  was  any 
man  more  humble  than  he. 

Nothing  indeed  softens  and  humbles  the  heart,  like 
a  sense  of  pardoning  mercy  and  redeeming  grace.  The 
Christian  can  sometimes  think  of  his  manifold  iniqui- 
ties, and  be  but  little  atfccted  by  the  remembrance  ; 
but  a  thought  of  the  love  of  Jesus  brings  him  upon 
his  knees,  and  lays  him  in  the  dust.  It  makes  him 
fall  down,  like  the  poor  woman  who  had  been  a  sin- 
ner, at  the  feet  of  his  Saviour,  and  weep.  It  was 
mercy,  that  made  David  exclaim,  '^  Who  am  I,  O 
Lord  God,  and  what  is  mine  house,  that  thou  hast 
brought  me  hitherto  ?"  It  is  n.crcy  that  still  makes 
the  heart  of  many  a  sinner  lowly  and  contrite.  Fix 
your  thoughts  then,  my  brethren,  more  frequently  and 
more  closely  on  that  wonderful  love,  wherewith  the 
Father  has  loved  you.     Think  of  its  beginning  in  the 


Saint  Paul.  109 

councils  of  eternity.  Think  of  its  freeness,  its  great- 
ness, its  unchangeableness.  Think  of  that  depth  of 
misery  from  which  it  has  raised  you,  and  of  that  height 
of  blessedness,  to  which  it  is  gradually  lifting  you.  If 
such  thoughts  as  these  will  not  humble  your  hearts, 
write  bitter  things  against  yourselves,  and  deem  your^ 
selves  strangers  to  the  grace  of  Christ. 

3.  The  Christian  will  also  find  his  humility  in- 
creased 1)7/  frequently  meditating  on  the  infinite  purity 
and  majesty  of  the  living  God.  It  is  a  sight  of  the  di- 
vine greatness  and  holiness,  which  enables  us  to  see 
our  own  meanness  and  guilt.  It  is  this,  that  brings 
to  nought  the  glory  of  man,  and  stains  his  honour.  It 
was  this,  that  made  Isaiah  acknowledge  his  unclean- 
ness.  It  was  this,  that  made  Job  abhor  himself,  and 
repent  in  dust  and  ashes.  It  was  this  too,  which  made 
Saint  Paul  so  conscious  of  his  own  imperfections.  In 
his  way  to  Damascus,  he  saw  something  of  the  glory 
of  Christ,  and  when  he  was  taken  up  into  the  third 
heavens,  he  undoubtedly  saw  more  of  it,  than  it  was 
lawful  for  him  to  utter.  The  effect,  which  the  view 
that  had  been  vouchsafed  to  him  left  upon  his  mind, 
may  in  some  degree  be  seen  in  the  first  chapter  of  his 
epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  and  in  his  epistle  to  Timothy, 
where  he  calls  God  "  The  blessed  and  only  Potentate, 
the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords ;  who  only  hath 
immortality  ;  dwelling  in  the  light,  which  no  man  can 
approach  unto  ;  whom  no  man  hath  seen,  nor  can  see." 
If  we  then  would  walk  humblv  with  our  God,  let  us 
set  him  always  before  us  in  his  spotless  holiness  and 
awful  greatness.  With  the  Bible  in  our  hands  and  a 
fervent  prayer  in  our  hearts,  let  us  endeavour  to  be- 
hold him,  that  is  invisible  ;  and  even  the  distant  pros* 
pect  of  the  divine  glory,  to  which  our  feeble  eyes  can 


110  The  Humility  of 

reach,  will  constrain  us  to  feel  that  no  flesh  can  glory- 
in  Jehovah's  presence. 

4.  A  due  sense  of  the  great  importance  of  an  humble 
spirit  will  also  have  a  tendency  to  keep  us  low  in  our 
own  eyes.  The  grace  of  humility  is  not  a  merely 
ornamental  grace,  a  something,  which  it  is  desirable, 
but  not  absolutely  necessary,  to  possess.  It  lies  at 
the  very  root  of  true  religion.  It  is  the  source,  from 
which  every  spiritual  grace  must  spring.  Where  this 
is  wanting  every  thing  is  wanting.  We  may  appear 
very  religious,  and  have  a  high  reputation  for  godli- 
ness, but  if  self-abasement  be  not  the  corner-stone  of 
the  spiritual  temple,  if  the  building  rest  not  on  this 
foundation,  it  is  raised  upon  the  sand.  The  house 
may  be  beautiful  and  even  splendid;  it  may  appear  to 
the  spectator  firm  ;  but  when  the  rain  descends,  and 
the  floods  come,  and  the  winds  blow,  and  beat  upon 
that  house,  it  will  assuredly  fall,  and  great  will  be  the 
fall  of  it. 

Humility  too  can  adorn  the  house,  as  well  as  sup- 
port it.  The  Lord  giveth  grace  to  the  humble,  and. 
not  only  grace,  but  honour  and  glory.  There  is  no 
mansion,  which  he  loves  so  well  as  a  sinner's  humbled 
heart.  Yea,  that  high  and  lofty  One,  that  inhabiteth 
eternity,  whose  name  is  holy,  dwells"  not  only  in  the 
high  and  holy  place,  but  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  con- 
trite and  humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  hum- 
ble, and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones. 

Humility  also  can  do  more  for  a  man  in  the  present 
life,  than  any  other  grace  can  do.  It  can  enable  him, 
as  it  enabled  Saint  Paul,  in  whatsoever  state  he  is,  there- 
with to  be  content ;  it  can  fill  his  heart  with  thankful- 
ness ;  it  can  keep  him  dependent  upon  his  God ;  it 
can  teach  him  hov/  to  bear  the  enmity  and  reproach  of 


Saint  Paul  ill 

a  persecuting  world  ;  it  can  preserve  within  his  breast 
a  sweet  and  heavenly  calm  amidst  all  the  ruffling  storms 
of  life. 

5.  If  we  would  become  more  lowly  in  heart,  we 
must,  finally,  iook  more  to  Christy  than  we  have  hither- 
to looked  to  him.  We  must  regard  him  as  our  only 
Sanctifier,  as  well  as  our  only  Saviour.  We  must  ap- 
ply to  him  to  subdue  the  pride  of  our  hearts,  as  well 
as  to  blot  out  the  sins  of  our  lives. 

We  must  look  to  him  also  as  a  bright  example 
of  humility.  Compared  with  his  self-abasement,  the 
humility  of  Saint  Paul  sinks  into  nothing.  As  we 
look  on  the  babe  of  Bethlehem  ;  as  we  behold  the 
master  laying  aside  his  garments,  and  girding  himself, 
and  stooping  down  to  wash  his  disciples'  feet ;  as  we 
follow  the  man  of  sorrows  to  the  cross,  and  witness 
the  degradation,  which  he  cheerfully  suffered  there  ; 
the  lowly  Paul  is  no  longer  thought  of.  We  see 
the  Son  of  God  humbling  himself  in  the  dust.  We 
see  the  King  of  heaven  disrobing  himself  of  all  his 
dignity  and  glory,  and  clothing  himself  in  the  mean 
and  wretched  garment  of  fallen  and  guilty  man.  It 
was  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  that  the  apostle  learned  how  to 
abase  himself;  and  there  also,  if  we  would  have  our 
lofty  spirits  humbled,  he  sends  us.  ^'  Ye  know,"  says 
he,  "  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  though 
he  was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  we 
through  his  poverty  might  be  rich.  Let  this  mind 
be  in  you,  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus,  who,  being 
in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal 
with  God,  but  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took 
upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the 
likeness  of  men  ;  and,  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man, 
he  humbled  himself,  and  became  obedient  unto  death, 


lis  llie  Humility  of  Saint  Paul. 

even  the  death  of  the  cross.  Wherefore  God  also  hath 
highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a  name,  which  is 
above  every  name,  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee 
should  how,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth, 
and  things  under  the  earth,  and  that  every  tongue 
should  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory 
of  God  the  Father." 


SERMON  VIII 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  THE  HIGH-PRIEST 
OF  THE  CHURCH. 


HEBREWS   iv.    15. 

iVe  have  not  071  high-firiest, which  cannot  be  touched  lOlth  the  feeling  of 
our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all  fioints  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  vjitli- 
out  sin. 

A  HIS  is  one  of  the  sweetest  and  most  encouraging 
declarations  in  the  word  of  God.  It  has  cheered  many 
a  fainting  heart,  and  restored  many  a  wandering  soul 
to  peace  and  hope.  In  the  verse  preceding  it,  the 
apostle  speaks  of  Jesus,  the  great  High- Priest  of  the 
church,  as  the  Son  of  God  ;  as  having  passed  into  the 
far  distant j heavens,  and  entered  into  his  glory.  He 
speaks  of  him  here  as  the  Son  of  man,  as  being  still 
the  same  compassionate  Jesus,  that  he  was  on  earth, 
with  a  heart  as  tender  and  a  love  as  strong.  "  We  have 
not  an  high-priest,  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all  points  tempted 
like  as-we  are,  yet  without  sin." 

That  we  may  draw  Scriptural  comfort  and  hope  from 
these  words,  let  us  enquire,  first,  of  what  infirmities 
the  apostle  here  speaks  ;  secondly,  what  is  implied  in 
Christ's  being  touched  with  the  feeling  of  them  ;  and, 
thirdly,  what  reasons  we  have  to  believe  that  he  still 
exercises  this  love  and  compassion. 

I.  We  are  to  enquire,  first,  what  infirmities  are 
spoken  of  in  the  text.  '  The  apostle  calls  them  "  our 

P  ' 


1 14  The  Compassion  of  the 

infirmities,"  the  infirmities  of  himself  and  of  the  He- 
brew Christians,  to  whom  he  was  writing.  These 
words  must  consequently  be  applied  in  their  fulest 
sense  to  the  true  Christian  only,  to  the  man,  who,  like 
Saint  Paul,  has  been  washed,  sanctified,  and  justified 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our 
God.  In  one  sense  indeed  the  ascended  Jesus  is 
touched  with  the  infirmities  of  all  mankind ;  he  pities 
and  often  relieves  them,  when  suffering  ujider  them. 
But  it  is  the  sorrow  of  his  beloved  church,  which 
chiefly  touches  his  heart,  and  calls  forth  all  its  ten- 
derness. 

Still  however  the  question  recurs,  with  which  of  the 
many  infirmities  of  his  servants  is  Jesus  touched  ?  To 
this  enquiry  we  may  answer  with  confidence,  that  he  is 
touched  with  all  of  them.  All  outward  infirmities  are 
the  subjects  of  his  compassion ;  poverty  and  want,  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  weariness  and  pain,  sickness  and  death ; 
and  not  only  these  natural  evils,  but  all  the  calamities, 
which  a  hating  and  persecuting  world  can  heap  upon 
the  church;  contempt  and  disgrace,  slander  and  re- 
proach, cruel  m.Qckings  and  scourgings,  bonds  and  im- 
prisonment. All  our  inward  infirmities  are  also  in- 
cluded in  the  apostle's  words ;  trouble  and  perplexity, 
fear  and  terror,  grief  and  anguish,  the  temptations  of 
the  world  and  of  Satan,  and  a  sense  of  the  wrath  of 
God.  With  all  these  infirmities  Jesus  was  exercised  or 
tempted,  and  with  the  feeling  of  all  these  he  is  un- 
doubtedly still  touched. 

But  there  are  other  and  still  more  painful  infirmities 
yet  behind,  the  infirmities,  which  are  the  effects  of  sin, 
sinful  infirmities,  the  pain,  which  is  caused  in  the  soul 
by  its  conflicts  with  evil  lusts  and  unhallowed  tempers. 
Are  these  then  included  in  the  apostle's  words  ?  There 


High-Priest  of  tlie  Church.  115 

is  one  expression  in  the  text,  which  seems,  on  the  first 
view,  to  exclude  at  once  all  these  sources  of  sorrow 
from  the  sympathy  of  Christ.    He  was  tempted  or  ex- 
ercised by  all  the  various  calamities  of  human  life,  but 
yet  he  was  without  sin.  The  text  however  tells  us  that 
he  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are ;  and  again 
another  Scripture  says,  that  he  was  made  in  the  likeness 
of  sinful  flesh  ;  that  he  took  our  nature  upon  him,  not 
as  it  was  in  our  first  parents  in  a  state  of  innocence, 
not  as  it  is  now  in  the  glorified  saints  in  heaven,  but  as 
it  is  impaired  and  degraded  by  the  fall.    Not  that  there 
was  any  sin  in  him.     He  was  perfectly  harmless,  per- 
fectly pure,  without  spot,  or  blemish,  or  any  such  thing. 
But  though  he  was  free  from  sin,  he  felt  and  tasted  in 
all  their  bitterness  many  of  those  effects  of  sin,  to  which 
man  is  liable  in  the  present  state.  He  knew  what  it  was 
to  be  under  the  guilt  of  sin  ;  not  that  he  was  ever  really 
guilty,  but  he  was  in  some  degree  dealt  with  as  though 
he  were.    "  God,"  says  the  apostle,  "  made  him  to  be 
sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin."    Hence  he  was  made  to 
taste  something  of  those  sufferings,  which  are  the  con- 
sequences of  guilt,  something  of  that  horror  of  soul, 
that  fearful,  dreadful  sense  of  divine  displeasure,  which 
sin  brings  into  the  mind.     He  was  stricken,  smitten  of 
God,  and  afflicted ;   yea,  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise 
him,  to  put  him  to  grief,  and,  in  the  midst  of  his  se- 
verest agonies,  to  forsake  him,  to  leave  him  to  himself. 
If  then  Jesus,  though  free  from  sin,  has  thus  tasted  of 
its  bitter  fruits,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  that  he 
can  sympathize  with  his  people  when  suffering  under 
them  ;  that  he  can  feel  for  them  even  when  wounded  by 
a  sense  of  guilt,  when  encompassed  with  a  multitude  of 
sinful  infirmities,  and  harassed  by  a  thousand  tempta- 
tions  and  lusts. 


116  The  Compassion  of  the 

It  becomes  us  however  to  speak  with  caution  on  such 
a  subject  as  this,  lest  we  should  seem  to  make  light  of 
iniquity,  and  take  to  our  hearts  one  of  the  greatest  of 
all  spiritual  curses,  unhallowed  comfort  in  sin.  It  is 
true  that  we  dare  not  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  in 
the  exercise  of  his  mercy  towards  his  people  ;  it  is  un- 
bounded mercy,  high  as  the  heavens  and  deep  as  eter- 
nity ;  but  then  who  are  his  people  ?  Who  are  the  ob- 
jects of  his  mercy  ?  The  Scripture  uniformly  tells  us, 
that  they  only  are  included  in  their  number,  who  abhor 
sin,  hate  it  from  their  very  soul,  and  daily  and  hourly 
strive  to  tear  it  from  their  hearts.  If  then  I  love  iniqui- 
ty, delight  in  it,  and  cherish  it  in  my  soul ;  if  I  am,  like 
mankind  in  general,  vain  and  trifling,  earthly-minded 
and  sensual,  this  Scripture  has  no  comfort  for  me.  It 
was  not  designed  for  me.  M}''  character,  my  heart, 
must  be  changed,  before  I  dare  appropriate  it  to  myself, 
or  draw  any  consolation  from  it. 

II.  Let  us  now  go  on  to  enquire,  secondly,  what  is 
meant  by  Christ's  being  touched  with  the  feeling  of 
our  infirmities. 

The  double  negative,  which  the  apostle  has  em- 
ployed in  the  text,  is  much  stronger  and  more  expres- 
sive, than  a  direct  affirmative  would  have  been,  and 
seems  to  imply  a  fuller  assurance  of  the  fact.  Here  also 
it  must  be  observed,  that  the  word,  which  is  rendered 
**  touched  with  the  feeling  of,"  signifies  to  suffer  with 
another,  to  share  his  sorrows,  to  sympathize  with  him 
under  them.  We  are  taught  then  by  this  expression, 
that  Christ  sympathizes  with  his  people,  just  as  one 
man  sympathizes  with  another;  that  he  still  retains  all 
the  affections  of  the  human  heart,  and  still  delights  to 
exercise  them.  We  do  not  indeed  attempt  to  say  how 
these  affections  are  exercised  in  a  Being,  who  is  God 


High-Priest  of  the  Church.  117 

as  well  as  man ;  but,  though  we  may  not  always  be  able 
fully  to  explain  the  declarations  of  God,  yet  if  we  have 
humble  and  simple  hearts,  we  can  believe  them,  and 
rejoice  in  the  gracious  truths  they  contain,  and  adore 
the  goodness  of  that  Father  of  mercies,  who  has  caused 
them  to  be  written  in  his  word  for  our  comfort  and 
salvation.  But  let  us  take  a  somewhat  closer  view  of 
this  compassion  of  Jesus. 

1.  His  being  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmi- 
ties evidently  implies  a  knowledge  of  them  ;  it  tells 
us  that  he  sees,  and  notices,  and  remembers  them. 

Now  this  knowledge  is  an  accurate,  a  perfect  know- 
ledge. Our  infirmities  may  be  as  numerous,  as  the 
sands  upon  the  sea  shore ;  but  none  of  them  escape  his 
notice.  They  may  be  more  than  we  can  number,  but 
he  numbers  them  all,  and  has  the  account  of  them  ever 
before  him.  There  is  not  one  of  them  so  small,  as  to  be 
deemed  unworthy  of  his  regard ;  none  so  great,  as  to 
make  him  unwilling  to  concern  himself  in  it. 

His  knowledge  too  is  experimental,  as  well  as  accu- 
rate. He  knows  by  experience  what  our  trials  are,  for 
he  has  borne  and  carried  them.  He  has  felt  their 
weight,  and  pressure,  and  smart,  and  still  remembers 
every  painful  feeling,  w^hich  they  excited  in  his  souL 

2.  This  accurate  and  experimental  knowledge  pro- 
duces another  eftcct  implied  in  Christ's  being  touched 
with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmities;  this  effect  is  sympathy, 
a  tender  compassion  for  us,  while  suffering  under  our 
trials.  We  often  know  and  see  the  afflictions  and  in- 
firmities of  one  another,  without  our  knowledge  pro- 
ducing any  effect  upon  our  minds  ;  but  it  is  not  so  with 
Christ.  Our  infirmities  interest  his  feelings  and  touch 
his  soul.  And  this  not  in  a  slight  degree.  His  sympa- 
thy is  a  strong  sympathy.    When  a  good  man  sees  an- 


118  The  Compassion  of  the 

other  in  distress  or  misery,  though  he  be  a  stranger, 
he  is  moved  with  compassion  toward  him ;  but  if  the 
sufferer,  instead  of  being  a  stranger,  be  a  beloved  rela- 
tive or  friend,  he  feels  a  much  livelier  interest  in  his 
sorrow,  and  is  more  deeply  affected  with  his  condition. 
Thus  Jesus  feels  for  us,  not  merely  as  we  are  objects 
of  pity,  but  as  the  objects  of  his  tenderest  love.  He 
feels  for  us  as  his  own  beloved  people,  as  those,  whom 
he  has  purchased  with  his  blood,  and  whom  he  regards 
as  the  choicest  treasures  he  possesses.  He  feels  for  his 
people  as  a  brother  feels  for  his  brethren,  as  a  father 
for  his  child,  as  a  husband  for  the  wife  of  his  bosom. 

The  sympathy  of  Christ  is  as  abiding  too,  as  it  is 
strong.  It  is  a  constant,  never- failing  sympathy.  He 
does  not  have  pity  upon  us  one  hour,  and  neglect  us 
the  next ;  he  does  not  weep  with  us  in  this  trial,  and 
turn  away  from  us  in  that :  no ;  he  shares  every  sorrow 
with  us,  and  as  long  as  we  are  encompassed  with  in- 
firmities, so  long  will  his  compassion  be  exercised  to- 
wards us.  Nay  more ;  he  will  sympathize  with  us, 
when  all  our  infirmities  shall  have  passed  away  ;  he  will 
share  in  our  joys  in  heaven,  as  well  as  in  our  sorrows 
upon  earth.  Even  in  his  kingdom  above,  whatever 
affects  us  will  affect  him.  He  now  mourns  with  us  in 
our  sorrow,  and  he  will  there  sing  with  us  in  our  joy. 

3.  To  be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmities 
implies,  further,  a  readiness  in  Christ  to  succour  us 
under  them.  The  sympathy  of  Christ  is  not  a  mere 
sentimental  thing.  It  is  not  that  fashionable  and  much 
applauded  sensibility,  which  can  weep  over  misery,  and 
yet  not  stretch  out  a  hand  to  relieve  it.  It  is  ap  active 
principle.  It  leads  the  Saviour  to  do  for  us  all,  that, 
consistently  with  our  welfare  and  his  glory,  he  can  do  ; 
to  give  us  all  the  help,  and  support,  and  comfort,  which 


High-  Priest  of  the  Church.  119 

we  need  under  our  afflictions,  and,  as  soon  as  possible, 
to  give  us  a  happy  issue  out  of  them.  He  is  indeed  a 
wise,  as  well  as  a  tender  friend ;  and  he  will  not  re- 
move any  infirmity  from  us  one  moment  before  it  will 
be  well  for  us  to  have  it  removed ;  but  then  as  long  as 
we  are  afflicted,  he  is  afflicted.  While  we  are  suffering, 
he  is  suffering  also.  Let  this  satisfy  us.  Let  it  bring 
comfort  to  our  souls  under  affliction ;  and  convince  us 
that  help  and  deliverance  will  come  in  their  proper 
season. 

in.  We  may  now  proceed  to  enquire,  thirdly,  what 
reasons  we  have  to  believe  that  Jesus  is  still  exercising 
this  love  and  compassion  towards  the  infirmities  of  his 
saints.  It  is  so  great  and  wonderful  an  act  of  conde- 
scension, that  many  a  faithless  heart  may  be  ready  to 
doubt  it,  or  at  best  slow  to  believe  it.  We  seem  to 
want  something  to  encourage  us  to  the  belief  of  a  truth 
so  strange  to  reason,  so  far  above  all  expectation,  so 
much  beyond  all  we  could  hope  for  or  think  of.  The 
apostle  however  has  given  us  in  this  epistle  abundant 
confirmation  of  the  truth  of  his  assertion. 

1.  He  tells  us,  first,  that  this  was  one  of  the  ends, 
for  which  Christ  took  our  nature  upon  hiin,  that  he 
might  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  We 
read  in  the  beginning  of  the  chapter,  which  follows  the 
text,  that  every  high-priest,  taken  from  among  men, 
must  "  have  compassion  on  the  ignorant,  and  on  them 
that  are  out  of  the  way ;  for  that  he  himself  also  is  com- 
passed with  infirmity."  it  was  necessary  for  Jesus 
therefore  to  be  made  such  a  high-priest  as  this. 
**  Wherefore,"  says  the  apostle  in  the  seventeenth 
^erse  of  the  second  chapter  of  this  epistle,  "  in  all 
things  it  behoved  him  to  be  made  like  unto  his  bre- 
thren^  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  High- 


130  The  Compassion  of  the 

Priest  in  things  i>ertaining  to  God,  to  make  reconcilia-^ 
tion  for  the  sins  of  the  people ;  for  in  that  he  himself 
hath  suffered,  being  tempted,  he  is  able  to  succour 
them  that  are  tempted."  His  assuming  our  nature  did 
not  indeed  increase  his  mercifulness  as  God,  for  that, 
before  his  incarnation,  was  infinite.  But  it  enabled  him, 
as  man,  to  pity  from  experience.  He  submitted  to  our 
infirmities,  that  he  might  not  only  be  merciful  to  us  as 
a  God  of  mercy,  but  tender-hearted  and  compassionate 
towards  us  as  a  brother  and  a  friend.  Now  this  being- 
one  of  the  ends,  for  which  he  became  man,  the  con- 
stant exercise  of  his  sympathy  is  no  more  to  be  doubted, 
than  his  incarnation  itself.  He  was  made  man,  not  only 
that  he  might  suffer  for  us,  but  that  he  might  suffer 
with  us ;  and  as  long  as  he  remains  the  great  High- 
Priest  of  the  church,  our  sorrows  will  be  his  sorrows, 
our  trials  his  trials,  and  our  joys  his  joys. 

2.  The  same  truth  will  be  evident,  if  we  remember, 
secondly,  that  it  is  a  part  of  the  Saviour^ s  office^  as  the 
High- Priest  of  the  church,  to  be  touched  with  a  feeling 
of  its  infinriities.  The  appointment  of  the  Levitical 
high-priest,  as  we  learn  from  the  passage  of  Scripture 
which  has  already  been  referred  to,  had  mercy  and 
compassion  in  its  very  design.  One  branch  of  the  du- 
ties of  his  office  had  a  reference  chiefly  to  God,  and 
consisted  in  offering  sacrifices  to  hini ;  while  the  other 
had  a  reference  principally  to  the  people,  and  consisted 
in  feeling  for  them,  in  being  touched  vvitli  a  compas- 
sionate sense  of  their  infirmities  and  sins.  Hence  the 
names  of  the  twelve  tribes  were  to  be  written  upon  the 
breast- plate  of  the  high- priest  when  he  went  into  the 
holy  of  holies,  to  remind  him  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
remember  all  his  brethren  in  the  sacrifices  and  prayers 
he  offered  there. 


High-Priest  of  the  Church.  121 

The  same  office  Jesus  has  undertaken  to  sustain  for 
ever  in  the  Christian  church,  and  bound  himself  to  per- 
form its  duties.  He  has  taken  upon  himself  an  un- 
changeable priesthood  in  the  heavenly  temple  above, 
and  will  never  be  unfaithful  to  those  covenant  engage- 
ments, into  which  his  love  for  his  church  led  him  to 
enter.  He  is  gone  into  the  holy  of  holies  with  the  names 
of  all  his  saints  written  on  his  heart,  and  he  will  for  ever 
remember  there  all  their  infirmities  and  wants.  He  de- 
lights to  do  all  the  will  of  God  ;  and  he  will  not  surely 
neglect  that  part  of  it,  which  is  connected  with  the 
safety,  the  comfort,  and  the  happiness  of  the  people, 
whom  he  has  suifered  so  much  degradation  and  misery 
to  save. 

The  text,  which  we  have  thus  briefly  considered, 
will  suggest  to  us  a  few  practical  inferences. 

It  reminds  us,  first,  that  the  church  of  Christ  has 
never  lost  a  privilege^  which  has  once  been  granted  to  it, 
tvithout  receiving  a  greater.  The  sacrifices  and  inter- 
cession connected  with  the  office  of  the  Levitical  priest- 
hood were  great  and  invaluable  blessings,  and  many  of 
the  Jews  hesitated  to  embrace  Christianity  from  a  fear 
of  losing  the  benefits  rcsultmg  from  them.  Hence  the 
apostle  labours  with  a  marked  anxiety  to  convince  them, 
that  so  far  from  losing  any  of  their  privileges  by  wel- 
coming the  gospel  to  their  hearts,  they  would  have  ihem. 
all  confirmed  to  them  and  unspeakably  improved. 

Had  they  sacrifices  for  sin  under  the  law  ?  He  tells 
them  that  under  the  gospel  they  should  have  the  same, 
even  the  blood  of  the  eternal  Jesus,  a  far  more  noble 
and  effectual  sacrifice,  than  thousands  of  rams  or  ten 
thousands  of  rivers  of  oil.  *'  Christ,"  says  he,  *'  being 
come  an  High-Priest  of  good  things  to  come,  by^a 
greater  and  more  perfect  tabernacle,  not  made  with 

Q 


i22  The  Compassion  of  the 

hands,  that  is  to  sa}-,  not  of  this  building ;  neither  by 
the  blood  of  goats  and  calves,  but  by  his  own  blood ; 
he  entered  in  once  into  the  holy  place,  having  obtained 
eternal  redemption  for  us.  For  if  the  blood  of  bulls  and 
of  goats,  and  the  ashes  of  an  heifer,  sprinkling  the  un- 
clean, sanctifieth  to  the  purifying  of  the  flesh,  how 
much  more  shall  the  blood  of  Christ,  who  through  the 
eternal  Spirit  offered  himself  without  spot  to  God, 
purge  your  consciences  from  dead  works  to  serve  the 
living  God?" 

Had  the  Israelites  under  the  law  a  high-priest,  whose 
office  was  the  life  and  glory  of  their  worship  ?  The 
apostle  assures  them  that  the  gospel  of  Jesus  would 
not  deprive  them  of  this  privilege ;  that  all  his  followers 
have  a  high-priest  ministering  and  interceding  for  then^ 
in  the  heavenly  temple  above,  one,  "  who  is  holy, 
harmless,  undefiled,  separate  from  sinners,  and  made 
higher  than  the  heavens  ;  who  necdeth  not  daily,  as 
those  high-priests,  to  offer  up  sacrifice  first  for  his  own 
sins,  and  then  for  the  people's,  for  this  he  did  once 
when  he  offered  up  himself.  For  the  law  maketh  men 
high-priests,  which  have  infirmity ;  but  the  word  of  the 
oath,  which  was  since  the  law,  maketh  the  Son,  who  is 
consecrated  for  evermore." 

Let  us  then  never  fear  for  the  church  of  Christ. 
From  the  creation  of  the  world,  the  dispensations  of 
the  Almighty  towards  it  have  been  continually  chang- 
ing, but  by  every  change  the  church  has  been  a  gainer ; 
and  thus  it  will  continue  to  be  to  the  end  of  time. 
Clouds  may  indeed  rise  at  seasons  to  darken  its  pros- 
pects, but  they  are  always  big  with  mercy ;  and  will 
shower  down  a  thousand  blessings  on  the  church,  as 
they  roll  over  it. 

There  is  also  in  the  text  a  ?iever-failing  source  of 


High-Priest  of  the  Church.  1S3 

consolation  for  every  afflicted  saint,  a  spring  of  comfort, 
which  will  reach  to  every  sort  of  trial,  and  that  too  at 
every  season.  We  are  told  that  Jesus,  our  great  High- 
Priest,  "  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are."  Ave 
we  tried  with  poverty  ?  Are  we  sometimes  so  poor,  as 
to  want  the  necessaries  of  life  ?  We  cannot  be  poorer, 
than  Jesus  once  was.  Though  he  is  now  seated  on  a 
throne  in  a  glorious  temple,  there  was  a  time,  when  he 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  sacred  head.  Are  we  ill-treated 
in  the  world,  misrepresented,  reproached,  and  hated? 
Jesus  too  has  suffered  shame,  and  hatred,  and  reproach. 
He  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men,  stricken, 
wounded,  and  bruised.  Have  we  been  bereaved  by 
death  of  our  friends?  Does  our  sorrow  spring  from 
the  grave  of  a  mouldering  parent  or  child,  husband  or 
wife  ?  Jesus  has  stood  by  a  grave,  and  groaned  in  the 
spirit  as  sorrowfully  as  we,  and  wept  as  bitterly.  Are 
we  friendless  in  the  world,  standing  alone,  forsaken  and 
forlorn  ?  How  many  friends  had  Christ  ?  A  few  poor 
fishermen.  And  how  did  they  act,  when  he  most  needed 
their  friendship  ?  They  all  forsook  him  and  fled.  Do 
our  sorrows  flow  from  spiritual  causes  ?  from  harassing 
temptations  or  the  loss  of  religious  consolations  ?  The 
Son  of  God  is  no  stranger  to  such  sufferings  as  these. 
He  was  tempted ;  he  was  exceeding  sorrowful ;  he  was 
forsaken  by  his  God.  However  diversified  our  trials 
may  be,  our  High- Priest  has  felt  the  smart  of  them  all. 
He  has  tasted  of  all  the  sorrows  of  life  and  all  the  pains 
of  death,  and  knows  by  experience  how  to  be  touched 
with  a  feeling  of  them. 

What  a  source  of  consolation  then  is  here  opened  to 
every  dejected  saint !  In  all  my  troubles  and  sorrows, 
Christ  is  near  me,  and  pitying  me,  and  suffering  with 
me.  My  poor  body  may  be  racked  with  pain,  my  heart 


124  The  Compassion  of  the 

may  ache,  and  my  soul  be  filled  with  fear,  perplexity, 
and  anguish  :  but  Jesus,  my  Saviour,  sees  all  my  trials ; 
he  has  experienced  them,  and  knows  exactly  what  I  am 
now  feeling  under  them.  While  I  am  complaining,  he 
is,  as  it  were,  hanging  over  me,  and  weeping  with  me. 
O  then  let  me  take  contentedly  my  cup  of  suffering, 
and  cheerfully  drink  the  bitter  draught !  Let  mc  take 
up  my  cross,  and  rejoice  to  bear  it,  though  it  may  seem 
heavy  to  my  feeble  frame.  Let  me  look  unto  Jesus,  and 
be  comforted. 

There  is  also  in  the  text  encouragement  for  every 
penitent  sinner^  who  desires  to  return  to  God.  Can  such 
a  Saviour  as  this,  with  such  a  heart,  ever  refuse  to  re- 
ceive one  contrite  transgressor,  who  casts  himself  on 
his  mercy  ?  Can  he  turn  away  from  one  trembling 
soul?  Can  he  push  back  the  perishing  sinner,  who  flies 
to  his  cross  for  refuge  ?  Sooner  could  a  mother  refuse 
to  have  compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb.  Venture 
then  to  this  Sa*^iour,  brethren,  and  make  trial  of  his 
compassion,  lie  already  knows  all  your  misgivings 
and  fears  ;  he  is  touched  with  the  feeling  of  them,  and 
is  anxious  to  chase  them  all  away.  Take  to  him  youc 
weary  and  heavy-laden  souls ;  commit  them  with  con- 
fidence into  his  hands  ;  and  you  shall  find  in  him  the 
richest  comfort,  and  the  sweetest  rest. 

The  subject  we, have  been  considering  reminds  us, 
further,  of  the  duty  of  feeling  one  for  another,  of  mak- 
ing each  other's  soriows  our  own.  To  have  Christ  for 
his  compassionate  High-Priest  is  the  Christian's  privi- 
lege ;  to  miitate  his  compassion  is  the  Christian's  duty, 
not  a  duty,  which  may  be  dispensed  with,  but  a  duty, 
which  he  will  most  assuredly  be  led  to  perform  and  de- 
light in,  as  soon  as  the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in 
his  heart.     O  that  the  meekness,  and  gentleness,  and 


High-Priest  of  the  Church.  1S5 

tenderness  of  Jesus  may  constrain  us  all  to  be  pitiful, 
and  courteous,  and  kindly  affectioned  one  to  another  ! 
His  compassion  would  produce  this  effect  in  us,  if  we 
were  really  followers  of  him  as  dear  children.  The 
reason,  why  we  are  censorious,  and  uncharitable,  and 
hard-hearted,  is  simply  this — we  have  not  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  and  are  none  of  his.  Never  let  us  deem  our- 
selves Christians,  till  we  bear  some  faint  resemblance  to 
our  meek,  and  lowly,  and  compassionate  Master  I  The 
religion,  which  he  puts  into  the  hearts  of  his  followers, 
softens  the  character,  sweetens  the  temper,  enlivens  all 
the  tender  affections  of  the  soul,  and  fills  it  with  kind- 
ness and  with  love. 

The  apostle  calls  upon  us  in  the  text,  finally,  to  hold 
fast  the  profession  of  our  faith.  This  indeed  seems  to 
be  the  great  end,  for  which  he  alludes,  in  the  passage 
before  us,  to  the  sympathy  of  Jesus.  "  Seeing  then," 
says  he,  "  that  we  have  a  great  High- Priest,  that  is 
passed  into  the  heavens,  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  let  us 
hold  fast  our  profession."  He  then  proceeds  to  teil  us 
for  our  encouragement,  that  this  Jesus  is  touched  with 
the  feeling  of  our  infirmities ;  that  the  ascended  Saviour 
knows  all  the  difficulties,  all  the  trials  and  struggles, 
which  we  meet  with  in  the  profession  of  his  religion, 
and  is  ready  to  help  us  in  them  all ;  to  strengthen  us, 
when  weak  ;  to  refresh  us,  when  weary ;  to  make  us 
more  than  conquerors,  when  tempted. 

The  apostle  well  knew  the  liability  of  his  fellow 
Christians  to  turn  away  from  the  faith  of  the  gospel, 
the  great  danger  which  they  were  in,  of  becoming 
apostates  to  the  truth.  The  mere  nominal  professor  of 
religion  thinks  nothing  of  this  danger,  and  cannot  per- 
haps be  prevailed  on  even  to  acknowledge  it ;  but  the 
real  Christian  sees' it,  he  feels  it  hourlv,  and  is  some- 


l:S6  The  Compassion  of  the 

times  ready  to  tremble  on  account  of  it.  He  is  travel- 
ling the  road,  and  sees  all  the  dangers,  which  surround 
it ;  while  the  other  has  never  entered  in  at  its  straight 
gate,  has  never  taken  one  step  in  its  narrow  path,  and 
knows  nothing  of  its  difficulties.  The  wonder  is,  not 
that  this  or  that  man  should  turn  aside  from  the  way, 
which  leadcth  unto  life,  but  that  any  feeble  sinner 
should  persevere  in  it  to  the  end,  so  as  to  be  saved. 

The  true  Christian  therefore  wants  comfort  and  sup- 
port under  this  fear  and  danger  of  departing  from  the 
living  God,  and  the  text  gives  him  all  he  can  wish  for. 
Jesus  knows  his  infirmities.  He  sees  all  the  ruggedness 
and  dangers  of  the  path,  in  which  he  is  treading.  Will 
he  then  look  on  with  indifference,  and  not  help  his  be- 
loved saints  ?  Will  he  suffer  them  to  sink  while  striving 
to  draw  near  unto  himself?  No;  their  foot  may  well 
nigh  slip,  but  the  Lord  will  place  underneath  them  his 
own  everlasting  arm,  and  save  them  from  falling,  and 
sustain  them.  *'  My  sheep,"  says  he,  "  shall  never 
perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out  of  my 
hand.  Fear  not,  little  flock,  for  it  is  your  Father's  good 
pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom.  Thus  saith  the  Lord 
that  created  thee,  O  Jacob,  and  he  that  formed  thee,  O 
Israel,  '  Fear  not,  for  I  have  redeemed  thee ;  1  have 
called  thee  by  thy  name ;  thou  art  mine.  When  thou 
passest  through  the  waters,  1  will  be  with  thee,  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee ;  when 
thou  walkest  through  the  Are,  thou  shalt  not  be  burned, 
neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  thee.'  " 

Here  then,  my  brethren,  is  our  safety  and  our  com- 
fort ;  a  leaning  on  Cnrist,  a  resting  on  his  compassion, 
liis  faithfulness,  and  his  power.  If  we  rest  simply  on 
liis  almighty  arm,  we  are  as  safe  in  the  midst  of  our 
dangers,  as  though  there  were  not  a  single  danger  in 


High-Priest  of  the  Church.  127 

our  path.  If  we  rest  any  where  else,  we  are  undone. 
No  matter  how  near  we  may  seem  to  have  ascended  to 
heaven,  we  shall  sink  into  hell.  Where  we  go  for  par- 
don, there  we  must  also  go  for  perseverance;,  and  there 
we  shall  obtain  it.  ^'  Let  us  then  lay  aside  every  weight, 
and  the  sin,  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us ;  and  let  us 
run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us,  looking 
unto  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith,  who, 
for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross, 
despising  the  shame,  and  is  set  down  at  the  right  hand 
of  the  throne  of  God." 


,/ 


SERMON  IX- 


THE  THRONE  OF  GRACE. 


HEBREWS  iv.    16. 

ijCt  us  therefore  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  ive  may 
obtain  meixy,  arid  find  grace  to  helji  in  tim.e  of  need. 

XN  the  two  preceding  verbcs  of  this  chapter,  the  apos- 
tle sends  our  thoughts  upwards  to  heaven.  He  shews 
us  Jesus  as  having  passed  there  in  the  character  of  our 
High- Priest,  as  pleading  for  us  before  his  Father's 
throne,  and  as  being  still  touched,  in  the  midst  of  the 
splendours  around  him,  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmi- 
ties, and  bearing  a  part  of  all  our  cares,  sorrows,  and 
trials.  From  this  cheering  representation  of  the  Sa- 
viour, the  exhortation  in  the  text  is  drawn.  *'  Let  us 
therefore,"  says  he,  "come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of 
grace,  that  we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help 
in  time  of  need." 

Let  us  enquire, yzr^?,  what  those  blessings  are,  which 
are  spoken  of  in  these  words ;  secondly,  where  they  are 
to  be  obtained  ;  and,  thirdly,  how  they  are  to  be  sought. 
And  O  may  he,  that  sitteth  upon  a  throne  of  grace, 
send  down  his  Holy  Spirit  from  on  high  to  rest  upon 
us,  and  to  take  up  his  abode  in  our  hearts ! 

I.  We  are  to  consider,  first,  the  blessings  spoken  of 
in  the  text. 

L  The  first  of  these  is  mercy,  pardoning  mercy, 
reconciling  mercy,  saving  mercy.  This  mercy  is  ever 
needful.     The  brightest  saint  needs  it,  as  well  as  the 


The  Throne  of  Grace,  129 

greatest  sinner.  We  need  it  every  hour  of  our  life, 
and  in  every  action  of  our  life.  Whatever  difference 
there  may  be  amongst  us  in  other  respects,  here  we  are 
all  on  an  equality.  We  must  all  obtain  mercy,  great 
mercy,  free  mercy,  or  we  must  perish. 

The  apostle  mentions  this  blessing  first,  because  till 
we  have  obtained  mercy,  we  have  no  ground  to  hope 
for  any  other  spiritual  gift.  Pardon  is  introductory  to 
all  the  other  blessings  of  the  gospel.  We  must  go  to 
God  as  a  Saviour,  before  we  can  go  to  him  as  a  com- 
forter and  a  friend.  We  must  apply  to  him  to  pardon 
our  sins,  before  we  can  apply  to  him  to  cheer  and 
strengthen  our  souls. 

2.  The  second  blessing  spoken  of  in  the  text  is 
grace^  supporting,  helping  grace,  *'  grace  to  help  in 
time  of  need."  Ail  our  times  are  times  of  need.  There 
is  not  a  moment  of  our  life,  in  which  we  are  not  poor 
and  altogether  needy.  But  there  are  certain  seasons, 
in  which  we  especially  need  grace  to  help  us.  A  lime 
of  affliction  is  one  of  these  seasons,  when  our  souls  are 
ready  to  faint  within  us  and  our  hope  to  perish.  A 
time  of  temptation  is  another,  when  sin  seems  to  be 
forcing  its  way  into  the  mind,  and  the  corruptions  of 
our  depraved  hearts  stand  ready  to  welcome  it.  There 
are  seasons  of  perplexity  and  anxiety,  wliich  are  times 
of  need  ;  seasons  of  coldness,  deadness,  and  spiritual 
dtrsertion  ;  seasons  of  despondency  on  account  of  sin, 
when  the  bewildered  soul  looks  around  for  comfort 
and  finds  none,  and  is  ready  to  fly  even  to  despair  as  a 
refuge  from  its  fears.  A  time  of  deatli  too  is  a  time 
of  need,  when  our  bodies  are  about  to  be  broken  to 
pieces,  and  our  souls  to  enter  eternity,  to  go  into  that 
untried  and  unknown  world  of  spirits,  where  all  is  either 
unmixed  anguish,  or  perfect  blibS. 

R 


iSO  The  Throne 

Now  in  these  times  of  need  nothing  can  help  us,  but 
grace.  It  is  grace  alone,  that  can  subdue  our  corrup- 
tions, resist  temptations,  warm  our  hearts,  and  bring 
strength,  comfort,  and  hope,  to  our  troubled  souls. 

The  language  of  the  apostle  seems  to  imply  that  the 
grace,  which  we  are  principally  to  seek,  is  grace  for 
present,  and  not  for  future  need.  We  are  to  come  to 
the  throne  for  grace  in  time  of  need.  There  is  a  strange 
propensity  in  some  minds,  my  brethren,  to  be  con- 
tinually anticipating  these  times  of  need,  to  be  inces- 
santly looking  forward  to  future  trials  and  difficulties, 
and  bringing  distress  into  the  mind  by  a  premature 
anxiety  about  the  morrow.  We  often  find  ourselves 
enquiring,  O  what  should  I.  do,  if  this  or  that  affliction 
should  befal  me  ?  How  would  my  poor  soul  bear  to 
have  this  or  that  friend  taken  from  me,  to  be  reduced 
to  poverty,  to  have  to  struggle  with  pain,  and  disease, 
and  death  ? 

Now  this  anxiety  about  future  trials  is  too  often  sin- 
ful. It  occupies  too  much  of  our  thoughts ;  it  has 
its  origin  in  distrust  of  God  ;  it  silences  the  voice  of 
thankfulness,  and  leads  to  gloominess  and  discontent. 
^'  Take  no  thought  for  the  morrow,"  says  Christ, 
"  for  the  morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of 
itself."  Grace  to  help  shall  come,  when  it  is  needed  ; 
but  why  should  it  come  before  ?  We  shall  have  grace 
to  suffer  in  a  suffering  season,  and  grace  to  die  in  a 
dying  season.  As  our  days  are,  so  shall  our  strength 
be.  The  Bible  gives  us  this  assurance,  and  the  experi- 
ence of  some  among  us  has  fully  confirmed  it.  We 
have  looked  forward  m  the  duys  that  are  past  to  trials, 
and  shuddered  at  the  prospect.  These  dreaded  trials 
however  have  come,  and  come  perhaps  with  aggrava- 
tions, which  we  never  thought  of.     We  have  been  re- 


of  Grace,  131 

duced  to  the  poverty,  we  shrunk  from ;  the  disease 
and  pain,  which  we  dreaded,  have  seized  our  frames ; 
our  friends  have  been  taken  from  us ;  and  what  has 
been  the  consequence  ?  Has  our  soul  sunk,  as  we  ex- 
pected it  to  sink  ?  No.  It  has  risen  stronger  and 
stronger,  and  soared  higher  and  higher,  and  at  length 
bounded,  as  it  were,  over  the  trial,  and  left  us  a 
wonder  to  ourselves.  What  then  does  this  teach  us  ? 
Humiliation  for  the  time  that  is  past,  and  trust  and 
confidence  for  the  time  to  come.  It  tells  us,  when  we 
find  our  souls  beginning  to  be  anxious  about  grace 
for  future  emergencies,  to  stop  them  short  by  asking 
whether  we  have  all  the  grace,  that  is  necessary  for 
our  present  need  ;  whether  at  the  present  moment  we 
do  not  want  grace  to  root  out  anxiety  and  distrust  from 
our  minds,  and  to  teach  us  submission  to  the  will  of 
God. 

II.  Let  us  now  go  on  to  enquire,  secondly,  where 
this  mercy  and  this  helping  grace  are  to  be  obtained. 
The  apostle  sends  us  for  them  to  "^  the  throne  of  grace." 

1.  He  tells  us  to  seek  them  at  a  throne  :  he  sends  us 
therefore  to  a  God  of  majesty.  Thrones  upon  earth 
are  designed  for  those,  who  are  of  the  greatest  glory 
among  men,  and  he,  who  sits  upor^jthe  throne  of  hea- 
ven, is  the  most  glorious  Being  in  the  universe ;  the 
Father  of  an  infinite  majesty. 

A  throne  indicates  too  that  the  God,  who  sits  on  it,  is 
a  God  of  dominion  and  sovereignty  ;  that  he  reigns  over 
the  universe,  and  is  its  lawful  and  Supreme  governor; 
that  all  the  creatures  in  this  lower  world,  the  sun  and 
the  stars  in  the  firmament,  and  all  the  angels  in  heaven, 
are  under  him  as  his  subjects.  '^  The  Lord,"  says  the 
psalmist,  •<  hath  perpared  his  throne  in  the  heavens, 
and  his  kingdom  ruleth  over  all." 


13S  '     The  Throne 

A  throne  implies  also  that  he  is  a  God  of  power,  of 
infinite,  almighty  power,  in  the  universe,  over  which 
he  reigns.  As  the  kingdom  and  the  glory  are  his,  so 
is  the  power  also.  There  is  nothing  which  he  cannot 
perform.  He  could  in  a  moment  dash  to  pieces  the 
millions  of  worlds,  which  his  hand  has  formed,  and  in 
a  moment  create  a  million  more.  All  the  moral  part 
of  his  creation  is  as  much  under  his  controul,  as  the 
material.  He  can  bend  at  his  will  the  minds  of  men 
and  of  angels,  and  make  them  subservient  to  his  purpo- 
ses of  grace. 

'^  But  this  majesty,  this  sovereignty,  this  power," 
it  may  be  said,  "  are  nothing  to  me.  They  bring  no 
comfort  to  my  heart.  They  rather  repel  than  invite. 
They  excite  terror  rather  than  hope.  They  tell  me 
that  God  is  glorious,  while  1  feel  that  I  am  vile  as  the 
dust  1  tread  on  ;  tliat  he  has  a  claim  on  my  allegiance 
and  service,  while  I  know  that  I  have  been  a  rebel 
against  him  and  been  serving  another  lord  ;  that  he  has 
power  to  take  vengeance  on  the  sinner,  while  I  am 
conscious  that  I  have  hourly  broken  his  laws." 

2.  The  apostle  meets  this  objection,  and  goes  on  to 
call  this  great  and  glorious  throne  a  throne  of  grace. 

It  has  been  supposed  that  there  is  an  allusion  in  this 
expression  to  the  mercy-scat  in  the  temple.  This 
mercy- seat  was  the  golden  cover  of  the  ark.  At  each 
end  of  it  was  a  cnerub,  and  between  these  cherubims 
the  Lord  was  said  to  sit  or  reside,  as  on  a  throne.  This 
view  of  the  text  would  recal  to  the  mind  of  the  experi- 
enced Christian  many  interesting  subjects  of  contem- 
plation, but  it  will  perhaps  be  more  generally  profita- 
ble to  us  to  consider  the  language  of  the  apostle  in  a 
more  obvious  and  simple  point  of  view. 

When  the  apostle  sends  us  to  a  throne  of  grace,  he 


of  Grace.  138 

reminds  us  that  he,  who  sits  upon  thh  throne^  has  mercy 
and  grace  at  his  disposal;  that  lie  lias  removed  out  of 
the  way  all  impediments  to  the  exercise  of  his  good- 
ness;  that  he  can  now  be  gracious  to  a  world  of  re- 
bellious sinners  in  a  way  consistent  with  his  honour, 
and  shew  himself  a  God  of  mercy  without  tarnishing 
the  glory  of  his  other  perfections.  The  awful  display 
of  his  infinite  holiness  and  fearful  justice,  which  Jeho- 
vah gave  to  the  universe  upon  the  cross  of  Christ,  can 
leave  none  of  his  creatures  at  liberty  to  suspect  that  he 
has  ceased  to  be  the  hater  of  iniquity,  when  he  redeems 
from  destruction  and  carries  to  heaven  the  sinful  chil- 
dren of  men.  They  are  as  much  the  trophies  of  his 
holiness  and  justice,  as  they  are  the  monuments  of  his 
mercy  and  grace.  The  splendour,  which  their  salva- 
tion throws  around  his  throne,  was  unknown  to  the 
creation  before  they  were  redeemed,  and  will  for  ever 
eclipse  the  glory  of  all  his  other  works.  Hence,  though 
WQ  have  sinned  against  him,  God  can  now  pour  upon 
us  the  richest  blessings  of  his  goodness,  and  at  the 
same  time  bring  glory  to  himself  by  the  exercise  of 
his  mercy.  He  can  give  us,  in  the  most  free  and  ho- 
nourable manner,  pardon  for  our  sin,  strength  for  our 
weakness,  and  comfort  for  our  sorrow. 

The  expression  used  by  the  apostle  tells  us  also  that 
God  has  not  only  mercy  and  grace  at  his  disposal,  but 
that  he  is  willing  to  bestow  them  on  the  si?iners^  who 
seek  them.  The  place,  on  which  he  sits,  declares  his 
willingness.  If  he  presented  himself  to  us  upon  a  seat 
of  judgment,  a  tribunal  of  justice,  we  might  conclude 
that  he  was  ready  to  discharge  the  offices  of  a  judge, 
that  he  was  sitting  there  to  do  justice  and  to  execute 
judgment.  When  therefore  he  leaves  this  tribunal, 
and  presents  himself  to  us  upon  a  throne  of  grace,  wc 


134  The  Throne 

may  surely  conclude  that  he  is  ready  to  shew  grace  and 
mercy  ,  that  he  is  willing  to  receive  the  petitions  of 
the  sinful  and  to  dispense  help  to  the  needy. 

This  expression  shews  us  also  the  manner,  in  which 
the  Lord  exercises  his  mercy  and  grace.  It  tells  us 
that  he  dispenses  these  blessings  freely  and  royally. 

He  dispenses  them  freely.  If  God  is  a  sovereign 
on  a  throne,  it  cannot  be  consistent  with  his  honour  to 
receive  ought  for  his  benefits.  Even  an  earthly  mo- 
narch considers  it  a  degradation  to  take  a  price  of  his 
subjects  for  his  favours.  Will  the  great  Sovereign  of 
heaven  then  demand  a  price  for  his  mercy  of  such  poor, 
mean  subjects  as  we  are  ?  Never.  All  his  acts  of 
mercy  are  acts  of  grace,  of  pure,  unmerited  grace. 
They  must  be  so,  or  we  could  never  receive  them. 
Whatever  is  required,  we  have  nothing  to  give  ;  for 
sin  and  misery  are  all,  that  we  can  call  our  own. 

God  is  ready  to  bestow  his  grace  royally,  magnifi- 
cently, as  well  as  freely.  When  he  describes  himself 
as  a  king,  seated  on  a  throne  of  grace,  he  assures  us 
that  he  will  give  like  a  king  ;  that  he  will  bestow  upon 
us  not  a  few  trifling  gifts,  but  such  as  are  answerable 
to  his  greatness  and  magnificence.  We  dishonour 
him  therefore,  if  we  do  not  expect  great  things  at  his 
hands.  We  must  not  regard  the  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  as  a  common  benefactor.  He  is  ready 
to  give  us  not  merely  mercy  to  deliver,  but  grace  to 
exalt  us.  He  is  willing  not  only  to  lift  us  out  of  the 
pit,  but  to  advance  us  to  a  throne. 

But  here  it  may  be  said,  *'  What  if  God  has  mercy 
and  grace  at  his  disposal,  and  is  ready  to  give  them 
thus  freely  and  royally  ?  is  he  not  a  Being  too  great 
and  too  high  to  be  approached  by  me '?  I  need  these 
blessings,  and  God  may  be  ready  to  bestow  them  ac- 


of  Grace.  135 

cording  to  his  sovereign  will  ;  but  where  is  the  sinner, 
who  will  dare  to  go  to  so  high  a  God,  and  ask  for 
them  ?"  The  expression,  which  the  apostle  uses,  meets 
this  objection  also.  It  tells  us  that  the  Lord  is  willing 
to  be  asked  for  his  mercy  and  grace,  and  that  too  by 
the  meanest  sinner. 

When  he  offers  himself  to  us  on  a  throne  of  grace, 
he  gives  us  the  strongest  assurance  which  he  can  give 
us,  that  he  will  admit  dust  and  ashes  into  his  presence  ; 
that  he  will  hear  and  answer  prayer ;  that  it  is  the  very 
season,  the  very  opportunity,  to  carry  our  requests  to 
him,  and  to  have  them  granted.  He  sits  upon  this 
throne,  he  abides  and  dwells  there,  for  this  very  pur- 
pose, that  he  may  be  ever  ready  to  receive  our  petitions. 
He  waits  there  to  be  gracious. 

III.  In  what  frame  of  mind  then  does  it  become  us 
to  approach" him  ?  How  are  we  to  seek  of  him  mercy 
and  grace  ?  This  is  our  third  enquiry,  and  this,  the 
apostle  answers.  *'  Let  us  come  boldly  unto  the  throne 
of  grace." 

The  sense,  in  which  the  apostle  here  uses  the  word 
*'  boldly,"  may  be  inferred  from  the  expressions,  with 
which  it  is  connected,  "  the  throne  of  grace." 

1.  It  is  plain,  first,  that  if  God  is  seated  on  a  throne 
as  a  God  of  majesty  and  power,  this  boldness  must  be 
altogether  different  iromfearless  presumption  or  irreve- 
rent freedo?n.  The  glory  of  the  Almighty  when  seated 
on  a  throne,  even  though  that  throne  be  a  throne  of 
grace,  is  enough  to  make  creatures,  whose  habitation 
is  in  the  dust  and  who  are  crushed  before  the  moth, 
fear  before  him  and  approach  him  with  reverence. 
*'^  God  is  greatly  to  be  feared  in  the  assembly  of  the 
saints,  and  to  be  had  in  reverence  of  all  them,  that  arc 
round  about  him,     1  he  Lord  reigneih,  let  the  people 


43(5  The  Throne 

tremble.     He  sitteth  between  the  cherubim,  let  the 
earth  be  moved." 

There  is,  in  some  professors  of  the  gospel,  an  un- 
hallowed familiarity  with  the  sacred  name  of  God, 
which  makes  some  of  their  brethren  tremble.  They 
seem  to  forget  both  his  character  and  their  own ;  to 
forget  that  he  is  that  high  and  mighty  One,  who  in- 
habiteth  eternity,  and  they  sunk  almost  to  a  level  with 
the  brutes  that  perish.  They  appear  as  though  they 
thought  it  a  mark  of  a  high  degree  of  grace  to  bring 
dowai  Jehovah  from  his  lofty  throne,  and  to  degrade 
him  to  a  level  with  themselves.  Beware,  my  brethren, 
of  this  unholy  boldness.  It  is  not  the  offspring  of 
grace,  but  of  ignorance  and  pride.  We  stand  before 
the  throne  of  God  as  sinners  ;  what  we  ask  for  there  is 
mercy  ;  and  surely  the  conviction  that  we  are  sinners 
and  need  mercy,  ought  to  fill  us  with  humility,  with 
reverence,  and  godly  fear.  We  are  criminals  suing 
for  a  pardon  ;  our  boldness  then  must  be  the  boldness 
of  an  huml)le  penitent,  cherishing  in  his  heart  a  lively 
sense  of  his  meanness,  and  a  deep  conviction  of  his 
guilt. 

2.  The  boldness,  of  which  the  apostle  speaks,  is  op- 
posed also  to  self-ruill,  and  must  consequently  include 
in  it  submission  to  the  will  of  God.  If  he  is  a  sove- 
reign on  a  throne,  we  must  give  him,  in  our  approaches 
to  him,  a  sovereign's  authority.  We  must  go  to  him 
as  those,  who  desire  to  be  wholly  subject  to  him,  to 
be  governed  by  his  wisdom  and  ordered  by  his  will. 
Whatever  we  ask  for,  we  must  ask  for  it  with  this 
prayer  in  our  mouth  and  in  our  heart,  ^^  Father,  not 
my  will,  but  thine  be  done." 

3.  This  boldness  is  opposed  further  to  restraint  in 
prayer ^   and  implies  an  humble  and  holy  freedom  in 


of  Grace.  137 

our  addresses  to  God.  If  we  are  habitually  living  in 
his  faith  and  fear,  we  may  come  to  his  throne,  not  as 
strangers  and  foreigners,  but  as  those  who  are  of  the 
household  of  God.  We  are  not  to  go  to  him  as  a 
harsh  master  and  unfeeling  ruler  ;  we  are  not  to  appear 
before  him,  as  the  slave  appears  before  his  tyrant ;  but 
we  are  to  go  to  him  as  children  to  a  father,  to  a  forgiv- 
ing father,  to  a  tender-hearted,  yea,  a  heavenly  father. 
The  Lord  loves  the  humble,  reverential  boldness  of 
the  child,  much  more  than  he  loves  the  trembling  of  a 
slave.  If  we  could  but  always  approach  God  in  this 
spirit  of  adoption,  how  sweet  would  be  our  fellowship 
with  him,  how  successful  our  petitions !  Nothing 
would  appear  to  us  too  great,  nothing  too  trifling,  to 
lay  before  him.  We  should  pour  out  our  hearts  be- 
fore him  ;  open  to  him  our  every  want,  and  fear,  and 
sorrow ;  and  find  in  him  the  sweetest  sympathy,  and 
the  tenderest  love.  { 

4.  This  boldnes^s  opposed,  lastly,  to  distrust  and 
unbeliefs  and  includes  a  persuasion  that  God  has  grace 
to  bestow  and  is  willing  to  bestow  it,  and  that  we  are 
authorized  to  ask  for  and  to  expect  it.  It  is  the  bold- 
ness of  faith,  which  the  apostle  recommends,  a  confi- 
dence, not  in  our  own  merits,  but  in  Sovereign  mercy  ; 
a  faith  in  Jesus,  and  such  a  faith  in  him,  as  triumphs 
over  fears  and  suspicions,  and  rises  to  the  confidence 
of  hope. 

This  confidence  is  quite  consistent  with  that  hu- 
mility, which  becomes  us  as  sinners ;  indeed  it  is 
closely  connected  with  it.  At  the  very  moment,  when 
the  Christian  is  enabled  to  exercise  the  greatest  bold- 
ness in  his  wrestling  with  God,  he  has  a  far  deeper 
sense  of  sin,  than  he  has  at  other  seasons,  a  livelier 
conviction  of  his  own  utter  vileness.    The  Christian's 

S 


138  The  Throne 

life  is  indeed  a  riddle,  a  mystery,  a  perplexing  maze 
to  the  mere  speculative  professor  of  the  gospel.  It 
brings  together  so  many  different  and  apparently  oppo- 
site affections  of  the  soul,  and  feo  sweetly  and  yet  so 
strangely  blends  them  together,  that  he,  who  has  not 
experienced  the  power  of  godliness,  cannot  comprehend 
and  will  not  believe  it.  O  that  our  understandings  may 
be  opened  to  understand  the  mysteries  of  the  Chris- 
tian's hidden  life,  and  our  liearts  softened  and  enlarged 
to  enjoy  its  secret  pleasures ! 

From  a  review  of  the  subject  wc  have  been  consi- 
dering, \wt  may  learn  how  mercy  and  grace  may  be  ob- 
tamed.  They  are  to  be  obtained  by  prayer.  But  this 
implies  more,  than  appears  on  the  first  view.  It  im- 
plies that  we  deeply  feel  our  need  of  mercy  and  grace. 
It  implies,  not  a  mere  acknowledgment  only  that  we 
are  sinners,  not  a  cold  sense  that  we  need  mercy  ;  but 
such  a  conviction  of  our  sin  and  necessity,  as  fills  our 
souls,  interests  our  feelings,  abides  with  us  wherever 
we  go,  and  daily  sinks  deeper  and  deeper  into  our 
minds.  Without  this,  our  prayers  will  be  empty 
breath,  our  religion  a  lifeless  form. 

Here  it  is,  where  thousands  err.  Their  religion  has 
not  their  own  utter  vlleness  and  helplessness  for  its 
foundation.  Hence  there  is  no  abiding  spirit  of  prayer 
in  them,  no  settled  love  to  Christ,  no  clinging  to  the 
cross,  no  cleaving  to  God.  This  deeply. seated  sense 
of  poverty  and  guilt  must  precede  every  real  prayer 
for  mercy.  The  heart  must  be  humbled,  as  well  as 
softened.  Till  this  point  is  gained,  nothing  is  done. 
Here  then  let  us  begin.  Let  this  be  our  first  prayer, 
that  we  may  have  a  heart-felt  sense  of  our  need  of 
mercy  and  of  grace.  If  we  have  but  this,  brethren, 
O  who  can  tell  how  ready  God  is  to  receive,  how  will- 


ofCh^ace.  139 

ing  to  pardon  and  to  help  us  ?  Could  we  but  once  sec 
and  feel  the  thousandth  part  of  his  willingness  to  bless 
us,  we  should  want  no  further  encouragement  to  lead 
us  at  once  with  boldness  to  his  throne. 

Here  too  we  may  see  a  part  of  our  vast  obligations 
to  the  cross  of  Christ.  How  was  this  throne  of  grace 
erected  ?  By  whom  was  it  built  ?  Who  prevailed  on 
infinite  justice  to  sit  and  reign  on  it  ?  We  know  the 
answer — Jesus,  who  died  for  us,  and  rose  again,  and  is 
now  seated  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  It  was  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb,  that  was  slain,  which  first  made  the  throne 
of  God  a  throne  of  grace  to  sinners  ;  it  is  the  Lamb, 
that  was  slain,  who  still  keeps  it  such.  Though  the 
building  of  this  throne  cost  us  nothing,  it  cost  the 
man,  who  is  the  fellow  of  Jehovah,  tears  and  groans, 
a  life  of  misery  and  a  death  of  anguish.  Who  then, 
that  feels  his  need  of  mercy  and  of  grace,  can  make 
light  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Saviour  ?  Who  can  hear  of 
his  dying  love,  and  yet  despise  it  ? 

W^e  may  infer,  lastly,  from  the  words  before  us,  that 
the  man,  who  lives  xvithout  prayer  lives  without  the 
mercy  and  grace  of  God  ;  that  he,  who  has  never  sought 
these  blessings  at  a  throne  of  grace,  is  utterly  destitute 
of  them.  How  then  am  1  living  ?  If  I  am  a  stranger 
to  secret,  humble,  heart-felt  prayer,  my  character  is 
awful  and  my  state  is  perilous.  1  stand  before  the 
Almighty  as  an  unpardoned,  ungodly  sinner.  I  am 
under  the  curse  of  the  God,  who  made  me,  and  the 
object  of  his  just  abhorrence.  What  then  will  be  my 
future  condition,  if  I  die  in  such  a  state  as  this  ?  Where 
will  my  soul  go,  if  death  should  come  upon  me,  and 
find  me  destitute  of  mercy  and  of  grace  ?  It  must  go 
into  devouring  fire  and  everlasting  burnings.  How  is 
it  then,  that  knowing  and  believing  myself  to  be  thus 


140  The  Throne  of  Grace. 

ready  to  perish,  I  can  still  live  day  after  day  without 
prayer?  How  is  it  that  I  am  not  hourly  going  for 
mercy  to  the  throne  of  grace  ?  My  heart  tells  me,  that 
thou|:^h  1  in  some  degree  know  that  I  need  mercy,  I 
am  indifferent  about  obtaining  it.  If  1  could  go  to  the 
throne  of  an  earthly  sovereign,  and  get  a  splendid  es- 
tate or  a  proud  tide  by  merely  asking  for  it,  1  should 
at  once  go,  1  should  immediately  be  found  there  ;  but 
what  are  titles  and  estates,  when  compared  with  what 
God  has  to  give,  with  mercy  and  with  grace  ?  They 
are  nothing.  My  reason  tells  me  that  they  are  nothing. 
And  yet  1  cannot  bring  my  senseless  heart  to  seek  these 
precious  gifts  of  God.  Let  me  strive  then  to  get  this 
desperately  wicked  heart  awakened,  softened,  and 
changed.  It  is  a  dreadful  evil  within  me  ;  let  me  no 
longer  trifle  with  it,  lest  it  destroy  me.  Let  me  take  it 
to  Jesus,  that  it  may  be  made  a  new  and  holy  heart. 
Let  me  no  longer  keep  from  this  blessed  Saviour.  I 
will  this  very  hour  begin  to  pray.  This  very  hour 
shall  see  me  a  weeping  suppliant  in  the  dust  before  his 
throne.  There  will  I  lie,  and  pray,  and  plead  ;  there 
will  I  seek  mercy  and  grace  ;  there  will  I  smite  upon 
my  breast  and  say,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner." 


SERMON  X. 


THE  DEATH  OF  MOSES. 


DEUTERONOMY  XXXiv.   5. 

So  Moses  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  died  there  in  the  land  of  Moa6, 
according  to  the  word  of  the  Lord, 

JL  HE  chapter,  of  which  these  words  are  a  part,  con- 
tains a  short  but  remarkable  account  of  the  death  and 
burial  of  Moses.  To  lead  the  children  of  Israel  to 
the  land  of  Canaan,  this  faithful  servant  of  God  had 
abandoned  the  fairest  prospects  of  honour  in  the  court 
of  Pharaoh,  and  endured  for  forty  years  the  greatest 
trials  and  difficulties  in  the  wilderness ;  and  now  at 
length,  when  the  object  of  all  his  labours  seems  about 
to  be  obtained,  when  he  has  arrived  on  the  very  brink 
of  Jordan  and  within  sight  of  the  promised  land,  the 
hand  of  death  removes  him  from  the  world,  and  leaves 
to  us  another  striking  instance  of  the  mysterious  nature 
of  the  ways  of  God.  The  circumstances  connected 
with  his  death  are  interesting  and  instructive,  and  they 
are  written  here  for  our  admonition,  upon  whom  the 
ends  of  the  world  are  come.  Let  us  then  direct  our 
attention  to  them,  and  endeavour  to  draw  from  them 
instruction  in  righteousness  and  in  grace. 

I.  The  first  truth,  of  which  the  death  of  Moses  re- 
minds us,  is  this ;  the  Sovereign  of  the  world  can  carry 
on  his  purposes  of  grace  without  the  help  of  man. 

Who  was  this  Moses,  whose  death  is  here  recorded  ? 
He  was  a  man  of  the  most  eminent  talents  and  of  the 


143  The  Death 

most  exalted  piety.  He  had  been  for  forty  years  the 
leader  of  the  hosts  of  Israel,  and,  during  the  whole  of 
that  long  period,  their  honour  and  safety,  their  meat 
and  their  drink,  their  very  existence,  seemed  todtpend 
on  him. 

At  what  period  was  this  Moses  taken  from  this  peo- 
ple ?  At  the  very  period,  when  he  seemed  most  ne- 
cessary to  them.  Under  his  guidance  they  had  over- 
come the  dangers  of  the  wilderness,  but  they  had  now 
to  encounter  still  greater  dangers.  They  had  to  pass 
over  Jordan,  to  fight  with  enemies  stronger  and  more 
numerous  than  themselves,  to  drive  them  from  their 
country,  and  to  establish  themselves  in  it.  In  this  cri- 
tical and  dangerous  situation,  when  every  eye  was 
turned  to  him  for  direction  and  assistance,  and  all  their 
hopes  of  success  seemed  to  be  centred  in  him,  their 
illustrious  leader  and  commander  was  taken  from  them, 
and  all  their  prospects  appeared  at  once  blasted  and 
destroyed. 

How  mysterious  was  this  dispensation  !  And  yet, 
brethren,  the  occurrences  of  every  day  are  involved 
in  almost  equal  mystery.  A  great  and  difficult  work 
is  to  be  accomplished  in  the  church  or  in  the  world, 
and  the  Lord  raises  up  and  prepares  an  instrument  for 
performing  it.  He  calls  him  out  into  actual  service  ; 
he  crowns  his  efforts  with  astonishing  success ;  but  in 
the  midst  of  his  work,  at  the  very  period  when  he 
seems  most  necessary  for  the  accomplishing  of  it,  he 
removes  him  from  the  world,  lays  him  silent  and  in- 
active in  the  grave,  and  finishes  his  work  without  him. 

Do  we  ask  why  he  acts  thus  ?  why  he  thus  breaks  in 
pieces  the  instrument  before  the  work  is  done?  He 
does  it  to  teach  us  our  meanness  and  his  greatness ;  to 
shew  the  ^vorld.  that  although  he  is  pleased  to  employ 


of  Moses,  143 

human  instruments,  he  does  not  need  them ;  to  let  his 
creatures  see,  that  even  if  the  hosts  of  heaven  should 
cease  to  obey  his  word,  he  could  form  other  hands  to 
do  his  work,  or  bring  to  pass  his  purposes  without  any 
instrument  at  all.  He  does  it  to  bring  the  hearts  of  his 
people  to  a  closer  and  more  simple  dependence  on  him- 
self. He  dashes  to  pieces  the  cistern,  that  we  may  go 
to  the  fountain.  He  breaks  the  reed^  that  we  may  be 
led  to  rest  on  the  rock  of  ages. 

While  therefore  the  king  of  Zion  sits  on  his  holy  hillj 
we  have  no  reason  to  fvar  for  the  safety  of  the  church, 
or  for  the  honour  of  our  God.  Israel  passed  over  Jor- 
dan, and  triumphed  over  all  their  enemies,  without 
Moses.  The  church  of  Christ  also  shall  stand,  and 
shall  be  established  in  the  earth,  though  she  may  seem 
to  be  without  a  helper  or  a  friend.  Her  lights  may  dis- 
appear, her  ministers  may  be  removed,  and  her  ene- 
mies may  rejoice  ;  but  "  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her, 
she  shall  not  be  moved ;  God  shall  help  her,  and  that 
right  early."  As  for  her  enemies,  he  will  clothe  them 
with  shame,  but  upon  himself  shall  his  crown  flourish. 

n.  We  are  taught,  secondly,  by  the  history  before 
us,  that  sin  is  exceedingly  hateful  in  the  sight  of  Godj 
and  that  he  will  mark  it  with  his  displeasure  even  in  his 
most  beloved  servants^ 

W'hy  was  Moses  commanded  to  go  up  unto  the 
mountain  of  Nebo,  and  die  ?  Although  he  was  an  hun- 
dred and  twenty-three  years  old,  he  still  retained  all  the 
health  and  vigour  of  youth,  and  seemed  warranted  to 
expect  many  years  of  life  and  usefulness.  His  eye  was 
not  dim,  nor  was  his  natural  force  abated.  Why  again 
was  not  this  eminent  saint  allowed  to  pass  over  Jordan, 
and  to  enter  with  his  brethren  the  land  of  Canaan  ?  He 
had  been  a  faithful  servant  of  God.     He  had  given  up 


144  llie  Death 

for  him  all  the  pleasures  and  honours  of  Pharaoh's 
court.  He  had  chosen  atid  cheerfully  endured  affliction 
and  reproach  with  his  people,  and  esteemed  them 
greater  riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt.  He  had 
niijde  these  sacrihces,  and  suffered  these  trials,  that  he 
might  obtain  an  inheritance  in  the  promised  land ;  and 
now,  when  arrived  after  years  of  anxiety  and  labour  on 
its  borders,  and  earnestly  desiring  to  enter  it,  he  is  not 
allowed  so  much  as  to  set  a  foot  on  it,  but  is  removed 
from  the  world.  Wiiy  was  this  holy  man  thus  treated 
by  a  righteous  God?  The  Scriptures  inform  us.  He 
had  sinned  against  that  God.  Though  distinguished  by 
a  uniform  course  of  meekness  and  faith,  he  had  on  one 
occasion  spoken  unadvisedly  with  his  lips,  and  mani- 
fested in  his  conduct  anger  and  unbelief.  The  children 
of  Israel  had  murmured  at  Kadesh  for  want  of  water, 
and  to  silence  their  faithless  murmursj  the  Lord  com- 
manded Moses  to  speak  unto  one  of  the  rocks  around 
them,  and  promised  that  at  his  word  it  should  bring 
forth  water  before  their  eyes.  But  the  agitated  prophet 
exceeded  his  cominission.  Moved  with  indignation  and 
resentment,  he  called  the  murmuring  people  rebels,  and 
instead  of  speaking  to  the  rock,  he  smote  it  twice,  as 
though  he  doubted  the  efficacy  of  a  word,  and  thought 
his  rod  necessary  to  effect  the  miracle.  '^  Hear  now,  ye 
rebels,"  said  he,  "  must  we  fetch  you  water  out  of  this 
rock  ?  And  he  lifted  up  his  hand,  and  with  his  rod  he 
smote  the  rock  twice." 

This  was  the  offence  of  Moses,  the  only  offence  re- 
corded of  him ;  and  though  this  admitted  of  many  ex- 
cuses, and  was  repented  of  almost  as  soon  as  it  was 
committed,  the  divine  indignation  was  kindled  against 
him  and  Aaron,  and  they  were  both  condemned  to  die 
in  the  wilderness. 


of  Moses.  145 

How  forcibly  then  does  this  history  remind  us,  that 
we  have  to  do  with  a  God  of  awful  holiness  and  fearful 
righteousness ;  with  one,  who  will  not  bear  with  sin, 
though  it  be  in  the  dearest  and  most  distinguished  of 
his  saints  !  Moses  and  Aaron  among  his  priests,  and 
Samuel  and  David  among  them  that  call  upon  his  name, 
even  these  favoured  saints  must  be  visited  with  judg- 
ments, when  they  dare  lo  turn  aside  from  his  holy 
ways.  It  is  true  that  his  loving-kindness  he  will  not 
utterly  take  from  his  ransomed  people,  nor  suffer  his 
faithfulness  to  fail ;  yet  if  they  break  his  statutes  and 
keep  not  his  commandments,  he  has  pledged  himself 
to  visit  their  transgressions  with  the  rod,  and  their  ini- 
quity with  stripes.  Where  he  forgives,  he  will  not 
wholly  spare,  fie  may  so  pardon  the  sin,  as  not  to  in- 
flict upon  the  sinner  eternal  condemnation ;  and  yet  he 
may  take  a  severe  vengeance  on  his  iniquities.  He  acts 
thus,  that  he  may  prevent  any  abuse  of  his  grace,  that 
he  may  manifest  the  holiness  of  his  nature  and  his  law, 
that  he  may  excite  watchfulness  and  circumspection  in 
his  people,  that  he  may  reprove  and  warn  the  ungodly 
sinner. 

Let  us  learn  therefore,  whatever  our  characters  may 
be,  to  abhor  and  dread  that  which  is  evil.  Are  you 
serving  and  fearing  God?  Remember  that  God  has 
other  punishments  for  sin  besides  the  bitter  pains  of 
eternity  ;  and  these  punishments,  if  you  dare  to  sin, 
will  be  poured  out  upon  your  head.  Are  you  living 
without  God  in  the  world,  strangers  to  holiness  and 
grace  ?  Remember  that  one  transgression  excluded  the 
faithful  Moses  from  Canaan  ;  what  then  will  be  your 
doom,  you,  who  are  loaded  with  so  many  sins,  and  so 
hardened  in  your  guilt?  God  cannot  endure  sin  even 
in  the  people  who  fear  him,  without  testifying  his  sore 

T 


146  The  Death 

displeasure  against  it ;  will  he  then  bear  with  it  in  you  ? 
in  you,  who  despise  his  mercy,  as  well  as  mock  at  his 
laws?  in  you,  who  brave  his  vengeance  and  defy  his 
power?  If  these  things  be  done  in  the  green  tree,  will 
nothing  be  done  in  tlie  dry  ? 

III.  We  may  learn,  further,  from  the  circumstances 
connected  with  the  death  of  Moscs,  that  the  afflicted 
servant  of  God  is  generalli/  enabltd  to  submit  with  re- 
signation to  the  chastisements  of  his  heavenly  Father. 

Moses  anxiously  wished  to  enter  the  goodly  land  of 
Canaan,  and,  as  we  are  informed  in  the  third  chapter  of 
this  book,  he  at  first  besought  the  Lord  to  revoke  the 
sentence  passed  upon  him.  But  when  this  request  had 
been  once  denied  him,  he  acquiesces  in  the  justice  of 
'the  sentence,  and  not  a  murmur  escapes  his  lips.  As 
his  end  approaches,  he  devotes  the  greater  part  of  his 
time  to  admonishing  Israel,  and  instructing  them  in  the 
things  of  God.  He  at  length  receives  the  command  to 
go  up  to  the  top  of  Pisgah  and  die,  and  no  sooner  is  it 
received,  than  it  is  obeyed.  With  the  praises  of  God 
in  his  mouth,  he  ascends  the  hill,  and  cheerfully  meets 
his  end. 

Here  then  let  us  learn  a  lesson  of  meek  submission 
to  the  will  of  God.  It  is  not  indeed  wrong  to  feel  the 
smart  of  afflictions.  Insensibility  under  them  is  not  only 
unnatural,  but  sinful,  for  it  subverts  the  purpose,  for 
which  they  are  sent  to  us.  Moses  felt  sorrow  and  pain, 
when  he  was  forbidden  to  enter  Canaan  ;  and  a  greater 
than  Moses  had  his  soul  troubled  at  the  thought  of  ap- 
proaching suffering. 

Neither  is  it  wrong  to  beseech  the  Almighty  to  with- 
draw from  us  the  chastisements,  with  which  he  has 
visited  us.  Moses  besought  the  Lord  that  he  might  be 
allowed  to  go  over  Jordan  ;  and  what  was  the  language 


of  Moses.  147 

of  the  suffering  Jesus  ?  "  O  my  Father,  if  it  be  possi- 
ble, let  this  cup  pass  from  me."    This  was  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Saviour's  prayer,  but  mark  how  he   ended 
it ;   "  Nevertheless  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt.  O 
my  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  from  me,  ex- 
cept I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done."  We  see  no  insensi- 
bility here,  no  despising  of  the  chastening  of  the  Lord. 
We  see,  on  the  contrary,  the  liveliest,  the  deepest  feel- 
ing.    But  then  this  feeling  is  attended  with  a  spirit  of 
entire  submission  to  the  will  of  God.     Let  this  spirit 
live  and  reign  in  you.     It  carried  Moses  to  the  top  of 
Pisgah  ;  it  led  Jesus  to  the  cross.    Intreat  the  Spirit  of 
God  to  fix  it  in  your  hearts,  and  it  will  lead  you  re- 
joicing through  all  the  changes  and  chances  of  your 
wearisome  pilgrimage.     It   will  lighten  the  burden  of 
trouble  and  sorrow  ;  it  will  cheer  the  hour  of  sickness  ; 
it  will  enable  you  to  go  down  to  the  grave  in  peace. 

Learn  to  submit  your  will,  brethren,  to  the  will  of 
God.  Learn  to  put  this  question  to  yourselves,  "  Should 
it  be  according  to  my  mind  ?"  Learn  to  take  these 
words  of  the  prophet  into  your  lips,  "  I  will  bear  the 
indignation  of  the  Lord,  because  1  have  sinned  against 
him."  What,  though  you  are  poor,  and  sick,  and  af- 
flicted, are  you  not  sinners?  and  ought  you  not  to 
wonder  that  your  afflictions  are  so  light,  while  your 
sins  are  so  heavy  ?  "  Wherefore  doth  a  living  man 
complain,  a  man  for  the  punishment  of  his  sins  ?  It  is 
of  the  Lord's  mercies,  that  we  are  not  consumed,  be- 
cause his  compassions  fail  not."  Every  breath  we  draw 
is  a  wonder  of  mercy,  a  miracle  of  patience.  If  we 
know  any  thing  of  our  real  character,  we  must  acknow- 
ledge that  we  deserve  all  the  piercing  anguish  of  eter- 
nity. O  then  let  us  never  murmur  against  the  Lord, 
because  he  sends  us  the  light  afflictions  of  time  ! 


148  The  Death 

IV.  The  history  before  us,  reminds  us  also,  that  the 
death  of  the  servants  of  God^  with  all  the  circumstances 
connected  ivith  it^  is  ordered  by  the  Lord. 

Moses  is  coinmauded  on  a  certain  day  to  go  to  Pis- 
gah,  a  certain  place,  and  there  to  wait  the  approach  of 
death.  After  his  eyes  were  closed  in  death,  even  his 
lifeless  body  was  not  forsaken.  To  prevent  the  Israelites 
from  paying  idolatrous  worship  at  his  tomb,  as  well  as 
to  do  honour  to  his  servant,  it  was  buried  in  some  un- 
known place,  by  God  himself. 

Equally  precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death 
of  all  his  saints.  Not  only  is  the  will  of  God  concerned 
in  the  general  sentence  of  mortality  pronounced  upon 
them,  but  death  always  receives  from  him  a  particular 
commission,  before  he  dares  approach  to  hurt  them. 
It  is  the  Lord  that  appoints  the  time,  the  manner,  and 
the  place  of  their  departure;  and  he  determines  these 
by  rules  of  unsearchable  wisdom,  as  well  as  of  love. 
There  are  undoubtedly  great  and  wise  reasons,  why  the 
death  of  every  saint  is  appointed  at  this  or  that  particu- 
lar season,  and  in  this  or  that  particular  manner ;  why 
some  trees  of  righteousness  are  soon  removed  from  the 
world  and  transplanted  into  the  paradise  of  God  green 
and  young,  while  others  are  suffered  to  remain  here  to 
a  good  old  age,  and  are  not  removed  till  they  can  no 
longer  grow  on  the  earth.  These  reasons  however  are 
at  present  hidden  from  our  eyes;  but  what  we  know 
not  now,  we  shall  know  hereafter,  and  in  the  mean 
while  all  things  are  working  together  for  our  good. 
With  this  assurance  let  us  be  satisfied.  Our  times  are 
in  the  Lord's  hands  ;  he  measures  out  every  day  to  us  ; 
and  will  not  allow  death  to  touch  us,  till  the  hour  he 
appoints  for  our  change  is  come.  Our  Bibles  tell  us 
ilutt  he  disposes  of  the  meanest  and  smallest  concernh 


of  Moses.  1-19 

of  our  life;  bow  much  more  then  of  life  itself!  If  a 
hair  of  our  heads  cannot  fall  to  the  ground  without  our 
heavenly  Father,  much  less  can  we  ourselves  fall  with- 
out him.  We  may  conclude  tlicrefore,  that  we  shall  go 
down  to  the  grave  at  the  very  moment,  and  in  the  very 
manner,  that  will  be  most  conducive  to  the  honour  of 
our  Redeemer,  and  the  welfare  of  our  souls. 

V.  The  last  truth,  of  which  the  text  reminds  us,  is 
this  ;  the  faithful  people  of  God  may  confidently  expect 
support  and  comfort  in  the  hour  of  death. 

Moses  had  sinned  against  the  Lord,  and  though  liis 
sin  had  been  pardoned  as  far  as  regarded  another  world, 
he  must  die.  Yet  the  God,  against  whom  he  had 
sinned,  did  not  suffer  his  servant  to  close  his  eyes 
without  a  manifestation  of  his  loving- kindness  towards 
him.  He  met  him  on  the  sum.mit  of  the  hill,  where  he 
had  appointed  him  to  die  ;  he  talked  with  him  there,  as 
a  man  talketh  with  his  friend ;  and  shewed  him  all  the 
country  of  Canaan.  He  saw  the  land  of  promise  stretch- 
ing itself  before  his  eyes,  and  whilst  gazing  on  the 
prospect  he  fell  asleep.  But  O  what  a  blessed  transition 
did  he  experience  !  He  is  taken  indeed  from  the  fairest 
earthly  prospect,  that  ever  eye  beheld ;  but  his  soul 
flies  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  still  fairer  inheritance,  eter- 
nal in  the  heavens.  He  loses  sight  of  the  plains  of  Ca- 
naan, and  the  goodly  tents  of  Jacob,  but  he  sees  the 
plains  of  heaven  and  the  throne  of  God. 

Thus  did  the  Lord  cheer  the  heart  of  Moses  in  the 
hour  of  death,  and  thus  does  he  generally  cheer  the 
hearts  of  all  his  servants.  It  is  indeed  a  fearful  thing  to 
die.  Even  the  righteous  often  shrink  from  the  drear\ 
path,  which  is  to  lead  them  through  the  grave  to  thei; 
desired  home,  and  wish  that  heaven  could  be  entered 
by  some  other  way.  All  attempts  to  reconcile  nature  t( 


150  The  Death 

her  own  dissolution  are  vain.  Who  can  love  to  be,  as 
it  were,  taken  to  pieces ;  to  be  torn  in  two  ;  to  have  a 
wide  separation  made  between  the  soul  and  the  body ; 
to  have  one  part  of  him  in  an  eternal  world,  wliile  the 
other  ib>  lying  in  oblivion  in  the  eartli,  and  turning  to 
corrupiion  and  to  dust?  In  such  an  hour  as  tliis,  fiesh 
and  heart  must  fail ;  the  soul  must  need  support  and 
consolation ;  and  they,  who  fear  the  Lord,  shall  find  all 
the  grace  and  help  they  need.  He,  who  was  with  Moses, 
will  be  with  them,  as  the  strength  of  their  heart,  and 
their  portion  for  ever.  The  Lord  has  said  to  each  of 
his  saints,  "  I  will  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee ;" 
and  surely  this  promise  will  not  be  broken  at  the  very 
lime,  when  the  performance  of  it  is  most  needed. 
What  was  the  language  of  the  believing  David  to  his 
God  ?  *'  Though  1  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  sha- 
dow of  death,  1  will  fear  no  evil ;  for  thou  art  with  me  : 
thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  me." 

But  God  often  does  more  than  vouchsafe  his  pre- 
sence to  his  dying  saints.  He  sometimes  opens  their 
eyes,  and  gives  them  a  distant  prospect  of  the  glories 
of  the  heavenly  Canaan,  as  he  shewed  to  Moses  the 
plains,  the  valleys,  and  the  palm-trees  of  the  promised 
land.  How  often  has  the  soul  of  the  dying  Christian 
seemed  to  rise  to  heaven,  even  before  it  could  disen- 
gage itself  from  the  body  !  It  has  been  carried  to  Pis- 
gah,  raised  above  the  earth,  and  heaven,  with  all  its 
glories,  has  burst  upon  its  view. 

If  you,  my  brethren,  would  enjoy  this  blessedness  on 
the  bed  of  death,  strive  to  enjoy  it  now.  Strive  to  rise 
above  the  present  scene,  and  to  look  forward  to  the 
eternal  Canaan.  Think  of  the  riches  of  that  goodly 
land,  and  your  nearness  to  it.  The  sighs  and  struggles 
of  the  wilderness  are  drawing  to  an  end,  and  you  are 


of  Moses.  151 

about  to  dwell  in  a  city,  which  hath  foundations,  whose 
builder  and  maker  is  God.  Think  of  the  greatness  of 
the  change,  which  awaits  you.  How  wonderful  the 
transition !  to  pass  in  a  moment  from  this  wretched 
world,  to  yonder  glorious  skies !  to  go  from  obscurity 
to  honour,  from  weariness  to  rest,  from  sorrow  to  joy, 
fronj  a  duneeon  to  a  throne ! 

Does  this  change,  brethren,  real)/ await  us?  Dare 
we  look  to  it  for  support  and  comfort  in  the  hour  of 
<leath  ?  To  answer  this  question,  we  must  ask  another : 
how  are  we  living  now?  If  we  would  die  the  death  of 
the  righteous,  we  first  must  learn  to  live  the  life  of  the 
righteous.  11"  we  would  die  with  Moses  on  Pisgah,  within 
sight  of  the  promised  land,  we  must  first,  like  Moses, 
turn  our  backs  on  a  tempting  and  ensnaring  world,  and 
live  a  life  of  faith  on  the  Son  of  God.  It  is  an  easy  thing 
for  the  most  irreligious  and  ungodly  to  flatter  them- 
selves, that  they  shall  die  in  peace  and  be  safe  in  eter- 
nity ;  but  shall  God  descend  from  heaven  to  fill  with 
joy,  and  to  inspire  with  triumphant  hope,  the  heart 
which  has  always  been  shut  against  his  faith  and  fear  ? 
Shall  the  angels  of  light  be  commissioned  to  convey  to 
their  unsullied  abode,  the  soul  which  delights  only  in 
sin  and  uncleanness  ?  Shall  heaven  throw  open  its  gates 
to  admit  the  child  of  hell?  Never.  "The  wicked  shall 
be  cast  into  hell,  and  all  the  people  that  forget  God. 
The  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death,  but  the  wicked 
is  driven  away  in  his  wickedness." 

Lay  these  things  to  heart,  brethren.  You  must  soon 
die;  and  if  you  continue  to  live  as  the  greater  part  of 
mankind  around  you  are  living,  death  will  be  to  you  an 
hour  of  misery  and  the  beginning  of  an  eternity  of  an- 
guish. Expect  not  to  die,  as  Moses  died,  but  as  thou- 
sands are  daily  dying,   stupid  and  unconcerned,  or 


1 52  The  Death  of  Moses. 

groaning  with  terror  and  racked  with  remorse.  Your 
bodies  will  be  committed  to  the  tomb,  and  moulder  in 
the  dust,  but  the  bitterness  of  death  never  will  be 
passed.  The  pangs  of  sickness  and  disease  mav  be 
ended,  but  the  pains  of  eternal  death  will  never  know 
an  end. 

Make  then  your  choice.  Determine  either  to  enjoy 
tlie  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season,  and  the  anguish  of  de- 
struction throughout  eternity  :  or  choose  rather  to  suffer 
affliction  for  a  season  with  the  people  of  God,  and  re- 
ceive with  them  the  recompence  of  an  everlasting  re- 
wr.rd.  God  has  joined  these  things  together,  and  we 
cannot  separate  them  ;  indeed  if  we  are  really  Chris- 
tians, we  shall  not  wish  to  separate  them.  We  shall 
esteem  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  all 
worldly  treasures  and  enjoyments,  and  shall  rejoice  to 
go  forth  unto  him  without  the  camp,  bearing  his  re- 
proach. We  shall  feel  that  we  have  here  no  continuing 
city,  and  we  shall  seek  one  to  come.  We  shall  desire  a 
better  countr}-,  that  is  a  heavenly,  and  we  shall  live  as 
strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth.  This  deadness  to 
the  world,  this  longing  after  heaven  are  inseparably  con- 
nected with  a  peaceful  death,  and  a  happy  eternity.  If 
the  grace  of  God  has  implanted  these  things  in  our 
hearts,  \vc  shall  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  our 
last  end  will  be  like  his.  We  may  not  indeed  see  so 
much  of  Canaan  on  this  side  the  river  of  death,  as  Mo- 
ses siiw  of  it;  but  we  shall  sec  as  much  of  it  on  the 
otl.er  side.  We  shall  enter  the  goodly  land,  and  have 
our  inheritance  in  it  with  the  Israel  of  God  for  ever. 


XI 


THE  GOODNESS  OF  GOD  TO  ISRAEL. 


DEUTERONOMY  XXXll.    10,    11,    12. 

He  found  liim  in  a  desert  land,  and  in  the  ivastc  hoivHng  ivilderness  ; 
he  led  him  about,  he  instructed  him,  he  kefit  him  as  the  ajifile  of  his 
eye.  As  an  eagle  stiiteth  ufi  her  nest,  fiuttcreth  over  her  young-,, 
sprcadeth  abroad  her  wings,  taketh  them,  beareth  them  on  her  wings  ; 
so  the  Lord  alone  did  lead  him,  and  there  was  no  strange  god 
with  him. 


J.  HESE  words  are  a  part  of  that  sublime  song,  which 
Moses  addressed  to  the  children  of  Israel  a  short  time 
before  his  death.  Having  called  heaven  and  earth  to 
witness  that  his  words  were  faithful  and  true,  he  tells 
them  that  though  they  were  a  perverse  and  crooked 
generation,  they  had  ever  been  the  peculiar  objects  of 
Jehovah's  regard ;  that  when  he  first  divided  the  earth 
among  the  tribes  of  men,  though  ages  were  to  pass  away 
before  Israel  could  be  numbered  among  the  nations, 
he  had  even  then  marked  out  for  them  the  land  of  Ca- 
naan, and  appointed  the  boundaries  of  other  kingdoms 
with  a  reference  to  their  settlement  in  it.  He  then  pro- 
ceeds to  state  the  distinguished  honour  conferred  on 
them,  and  ascribes  it  solely  to  the  sovereign  will  and 
mercy  of  God.  He  tells  them  that  the  Lord  had  chosen 
them  for  his  people,  for  his  portion,  and  for  the  lot  of 
his  inheritance.  In  the  words  of  the  text  he  reminds 
them,  that  in  conformity  with  his  design  of  settling 
them  in  the  land  appointed  for  them,  the  Almig!\ty  had 
brought  them  out  of  fc'.gypt,  saved  them  from  the  hands 

U 


154  The  Goodness  of 

of  their  enemies,  supplied  their  many  wants,  and  led 
them  throngh  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  u  ildcr  ■ 
ness  to  the  borders  of  Canaan.  *'  The  Lord's  portion," 
says  he,  "  is  his  people  ;  Jacob  is  the  lot  of  his  inheri- 
tance. He  found  him  in  a  desert  land,  and  in  the  waste 
howling  wilderness;  he  led  him  about,  he  instructed 
him,  he  kept  him  as  the  apple  of  his  eye.  As  an  eagle 
stirreth  up  her  nest,  fluttereth  over  her  young,  spreadeth 
abroad  her  wings,  taketh  them,  beareth  them  on  her 
wings;  so  the  Lord  alone  did  lead  him,  and  there  was 
no  strange  god  with  him." 

This  beautiful  description  of  the  loving-kindness  of 
Jehovah  towards  the  church  in  the  wilderness,  may  be 
applied  with  equal  propriet)%  to  his  dealings  with  his 
people  in  every  age.  Scripture  itself  v\arrants  the  ap- 
plication. We  ourselves,  my  brethren,  if  we  have  in- 
deed taken  Christ  for  our  Saviour  and  our  guide,  if  his 
Spirit  reign  in  our  hearts  and  influence  our  lives,  we 
ourselves  are  as  much  concerned  in  this  declaration,  as 
Israel  of  old ;  we  are  as  much  distinguished  and  ho- 
noured as  they.  "  We  are  the  portion  of  the  Lord  ;  we 
are  the  lot  of  his  inheritance."  Let  us  rejoice  in  that 
love,  wherewith  the  Father  has  loved  us  ;  but  let  us  not 
be  high-minded.  The  gracious  words  before  us  are  cal- 
culated to  humble,  as  well  as  to  cheer  us.  They  re- 
mind us  indeed  of  the  goodness  of  God  towards  his 
saints,  but  then  they  remind  us  also  of  our  natural  state 
of  degradation  and  of  guilt.  We  may  derive  from  them 
therefore  two  subjects  of  consideration- -the  state,  in 
which  the  Almighty  finds  his  servants  ;  and  the  manner, 
in  which  he  acts  towards  them. 

L  What  then  is  the  state,  in  which  God  finds  his 
servants  ?  The  text  tells  us  that  he  finds  them  in  a  de- 
sert land;  in  a  waste  howling  wilderness. 


God  to  Israel.  155 

1.  The  condition  of  the  Israeliies  in  the  wilderness, 
if  viewed  as  a  picture  of  the  original  condition  of  the 
righteous,  teaches  us,  first,  that  they  were  by  Tiature  at 
a  distance  from  Canaan  and  from  God.  They  were  a 
great  way  off  from  their  Father's  house.  Between  him 
and  tliem  was  a  dreary  waste,  which  it  appeared  impos- 
sible for  them  ever  to  pass.  The  enemies  of  God  by 
wicked  works  ;  transgressors  of  that  unalterable  law, 
which  declares  that  the  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die  ; 
the  willing  slaves  of  Satan ;  tied  and  bound  with  the 
chain  of  a  thousand  lusts;  with  all  their  affections  fixed 
on  sin,  and  all  their  desires  turned  from  God:  how 
shall  they  find  him,  how  approach  him  ?  Ail,  who  have 
been  brought  nigh  to  God  by  the  blood  of  Christ, 
were  once  thus  far  off  from  him  ;  and  he,  who  has  not 
felt  this  to  be  his  state,  is  a  stranger  to  the  grace  of 
Jesus. 

2.  The  condition  of  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness 
was,  further,  a  destitute  condition.  They  were  in  a  de- 
sert land,  in  a  waste  and  barren  wilderness.  The  pro- 
visions, which  they  brought  with  them  out  of  Egypt, 
were  exhausted  almost  as  soon  as  their  journey  was 
begun,  and  the  desert  afforded  them  no  prospect  of  a 
supply.  Without  food,  without  water,  without  a  place 
where  to  lay  their  heads,  hungry  and  thirsty,  their  soul 
fainted  in  them. 

And  were  not  the  people  of  God  once  as  destitute  as 
these  Israelites  ?  Let  us  look  back,  my  Christian  bre- 
thren, to  the  days  that  are  past.  We  imagined  that  we 
had  need  of  nothing,  but  what  was  our  real  condition  ? 
We  were  wretched  and  miserable,  poor  and  naked, 
ready  to  perish.  The  world  api>eared  fair  before  us ;  it 
promised  us  much,  and  we  were  willing  to  credit  it. 
Fools  that  we  were,  we  tried  it;   but  what  could  it  do 


156  The  Goodness  of 

for  us  ?  It  gave  us,  among  its  briars  and  thorns,  a  few 
flowers  to  amuse  us,  but  it  left  us  starving  for  want.  It 
brought  us  no  pardon  for  our  guilt,  no  peace  for  an 
accusing  conscience,  no  deliverance  from  the  grave, 
no  refuge  from  hell.  It  left  us  desiitute,  forlorn,  and 
wretched. 

3.  The  state,  in  which  the  Almighty  finds  his  peo- 
ple, is,  thirdly,  a  state  of  danger.  The  wilderness  was 
dangerous  to  Israel,  as  well  as  barren  and  desert.  It 
was  a  howling  wilderness,  full  of  ravenous  beasts, 
which  roan;ed  about  it  with  hideous  yellings.  It  was  a 
terrible  wilderness,  wherein  were  fiery  serpents  and 
scorpions.  The  defenceless  Israelites  had  to  contend 
also  with  formidable  enemies.  Many  of  them  perished 
by  the  arms  of  Sihon  and  Og,  and  many  more  by  the 
allurements  of  Balaam  and  Balak. 

Equally  dangerous  is  the  condition  of  the  servants  of 
God  in  the  world.   It  is  the  territory  of  an  enemy,  who 
goes  about  seeking  whom  he  may  devour.     They  are 
the  inhabitants  of  a  country,  which  is  at  war  with  the 
only  Being,  who  can  bestow  mercy  and  grace  on  their 
souls.     They  are  surrounded  by  thousands,  who  have 
formed  a  league  with  the  prince  of  darkness  to  rob  the 
Redeemer  of  his  jewels,  and  to  drag  to  destruction  the 
people,  whom  he  is  anxious  to  save.     It  is  indeed  im- 
possible to  contemplate  without  wonder  the  escape  of 
any  sinner  from   the  dangers,  which  surround  him  in 
the  world.     The  more  we  know  of  our  own  hearts,  of 
their  earthly  and  sensual  nature  ;  the  more  we  know  of 
the  world,  of  its  unconquerable  hatred  to  religion,  and 
its   alniost  irresistible  influence  over  our  own  minds ; 
the  more  shall  we  tremble  at  the  greatness  of  the  dan- 
ger, from  which  we  have  been  delivered,  dread  the 
.Snares  which  surround  us.  and  wonder  at  our  escape. 


God  to  Israel.  157 

This  then  is  the  state,  in  which  the  Ahnighty  finds 
his  people  in  the  world.  It  is  a  state  of  distance  from 
God,  of  the  greatest  want,  of  the  most  fearful  danger. 
This  is  the  wretched  wilderness,  into  which  we  and  all 
mankind  have  wandered,  and  from  which  none  but  an 
Almighty  arm  can  deliver  us.  We  may  not  indeed  be: 
aware  of  the  misery  of  our  condition.  We  may  feel 
no  want,  and  suspect  no  danger.  Our  bodies  may  be 
clothed  and  fed.  We  may  deem  all  our  spiritual  ne- 
cessities supplied.  And  yet,  brethren,  our  souls  may 
be  in  a  desert,   in  a  wilderness  that  borders  upon  hell. 

II.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  our  second  subject  of 
consideration,  and  enquire  in  what  manner  the  Al- 
mighty acts  towards  his  redeemed  people,  whom  he 
found  in  this  wretched  and  dangerous  condition. 

His  conduct  towards  them  is  illustrated  in  the  text 
by  the  conduct  of  the  eagle  towards  her  young.  This 
bird  is  said  to  bear  a  peculiarly  strong  affection  to  her 
offspring,  and  to  manifest  this  affection  in  a  very  ex- 
traordinary manner.  When  she  considers  them  suf- 
ficiently strong  to  leave  their  nest,  she  stirs  it  up  or 
disturbs  it,  in  order  to  induce  them  to  quit  it;  and, 
at  the  same  time,  she  flutters  over  them,  that  they  may 
be  encouraged  to.  try  their  wings,  and  be  instructed  in 
the  use  of  them.  If  these  means  do  not  succeed  in 
drawing  them  from  their  nest,  it  is  said  that  she  spreads 
abroad  her  wings,  and  placing  her  young  on  them,  she 
soars  with  them  into  the  air,  and  then  gliding  from  un- 
der them,  she  compels  them  to  endeavour  to  bear  them- 
selves up,  and  attempt  to  fly.  if  however  she  perceives 
that  they  are  unable  to  sustain  themselves  in  the  air, 
she  darts  under  them  with  incredible  swiftness,  and 
receiving  them  again  on  her  wings,  prevents  their  fall, 
and  places  them  once  more  in  their  nest. 


158  The  Goodness  of 

This  beautiful  similitude  strikingly  illustrates  the 
tenderness  with  which  the  Almighty  led  Israel  from 
Egypt  to  Canaan,  and  the  loving-kindness  which  he  is 
still  manifesting  towards  all  who  seek  him  in  the  wil- 
derness of  this  world.  It  shews  us  what  he  does  for 
them,  and  how  he  does  it. 

1.  This  similitude  shews  us  what  God  does  for  his 
people.  It  tells  us  that  he  ajfflicts  them.  As  the  eagle 
disturbs  her  young  in  their  nest,  so  the  Lord  suffers 
not  his  children  to  remain  at  ease  in  the  world  ;  but 
renders  them  dissatisfied  with  it,  and  thus  leads  them 
to  seek  a  better  and  a  heavenly  country. 

Is  affliction  then  a  blessing  ?  It  was  so  to  Israel. 
Their  nest  was  stirred  up  in  Egypt ;  the  arm  o^  a  cruel 
tyrant  was  lifted  up  against  them  ;  and  what  was  the 
consequence  ?  They  desired  and  obtained  deliverance 
from  the  house  of  their  bondage.  They  were  dealt 
Vvith  in  the  same  manner  in  the  desert.  He,  who  had 
opened  a  passage  for  them  through  the  Red  Sea,  could 
have  made  the  waste  and  howling  wilderness  blossom 
as  a  rose  before  them,  and  led  them  along  a  fruitful 
and  pleasant  path  to  Canaan.  But  such  a  path  would 
have  ruined  Israel.  The  foolish  people  would  have  lin- 
gered in  the  country,  built  their  tabernacles  in  it,  and 
thought  no  more  of  the  promised  land. 

But  why  need  we  enquire  of  these  favoured  people 
whether  it  is  good  for  a  sinner  to  be  afflicted  ?  Cannot 
our  own  experience  decide  the  question  ?  Give  it  what 
name  we  may,  be  it  in  its  nature  joyous  or  grievous, 
is  not  that  a  blessing,  which  makes  us  dissatisfied  with 
worldly  enjoyments  and  worldly  sins  and  follies  ?  Is 
not  that  a  blessing,  which  forces  the  wandering  pro- 
digal to  think  of  the  home  he  has  forsaken,  and  brings 
him  back   again  to  his  father's  arms  ?    O  brethren,  if 


God  to  Israel  i59 

poverty  and  sorrow,  if  perplexity  and  trouble,  if  pain 
and  sickness,  will  but  wean  our  hearts  from  this 
wretched  world,  and  cause  our  souls  to  long  for  hea- 
ven ;  if  they  will  but  force  the  heart  to  feel,  and  the 
tear  of  penitence  and  love  to  flow  ;  if  they  will  but  pro- 
mote and  sweeten  our  communion  with  God,  and  make 
us  more  meet  for  the  enjoyment  of  him  in  his  king- 
dom ;  let  us  ever  regard  them  as  blessings,  let  us  wel- 
come them  LIS  friends  ;  let  us  be  thankful  for  tribula- 
tion. When  tempted  to  consider  our  liglit  afllictions 
as  evils  and  enemies,  let  us  look  back  on  the  days  that 
are  past,  and  let  each  of  us  put  tiicse  questions  to  him- 
self— where  should  1  have  been  now,  what  would  have 
been  my  present  character  and  condition,  if  my  God 
had  never  visited  me  with  suffering  and  sorrow  ?  what 
would  have  been  my  hope  ?  vv^hat  my  eternal  home  ? 

The  figure  in  the  text  teaches  us  also  that  the  Lord 
guides  the  people^  who  are  the  lot  of  his  inheritance. 
When  the  eagle  has  stirred  up  her  nest,  she  flutters 
over  her  yoUng  as  their  instructor  and  leader ;  and 
thus,  we  are  told,  the  Lord  led  Israel  about  and  in- 
structed him.  In  a  miraculous  cloud  and  pillar,  he 
went  before  hirn  in  the  pathless  desert,  and  led  him  by 
a  right  way  to  a  city  of  habitation. 

Now  we  need  a  guide  to  heaven,  as  much  as  these 
Israelites  needed  a  guide  to  Canaan.  We  have  wan- 
dered a  great  way  off  from  our  Father's  house,  and 
thougli  a  way  back  to  him  has  been  opened,  we  know 
not  wiiere  to  find  it,  nor  how  to  walk  in  it.  But  ss 
soon  as  we  feel  the  misery  and  evil  of  our  wanderings, 
he,  who  came  down  from  heaven  to  seek  and  to  save 
them  which  were  lost,  vouchsafes  to  be  our  conductor. 
He  takes  us  by  the  hand,  and  leads  us  on  step  by  step 
through  a  world  of  misery,  till  he  brings  us  into  a  world 


160  The  Goodness  of 

of  glory.  Not  that  we  can  always  discern  his  guiding 
hand,  or  always  perceive  that  the  road,  in  which  he  is 
leading  us,  is  the  road  to  God.  The  path  of  life  is  of- 
ten a  mysterious  path,  and  he,  who  walks  in  it,  will 
soon  be  taught  that  he  must  walk  by  faith  and  not  by 
sigiit.  Our  ignorance  makes  it  mysterious  ;  but  when 
we  have  arrived  at  the  end  of  it,  and  look  back  on  all 
the  way  wherein  the  Lord  our  God  has  led  us  in  the 
wilderness  to  humble  us  and  to  prove  us,  we  shall  see 
that  we  have  been  led  by  the  right  and  the  best  way 
to  the  land  of  rest.  *'  I  will  bring  the  blind  by  a  way 
that  they  knew  not,  saith  the  Lord.  1  will  lead  them 
in  paths,  that  they  have  not  known.  I  will  make  dark- 
ness light  before  them,  and  crooked  things  straight. 
These  things  will  I  do  unto  them,  and  not  forsake 
them." 

We  are  reminded,  further,  by  the  words  of  Moses, 
that  the  Lord  preserves  his  people,  watches  over,  and 
defends  them.  The  eagle  does  not  desert  her  feeble 
voung,  when  she  sees  them  sinking  in  the  air,  but  flies 
to  their  aid,  and  bears  them  up  on  her  wings.  Neither 
did  the  Father  of  Israel  desert  his  children  in  the  wil- 
derness. '^  He  kept  them  as  the  apple  of  his  eye."  He 
visited  them  indeed  with  judgments,  but  he  suffered 
none  of  their  enemies  to  harm  them  ;  and  as  for  his 
own  judgments,  they  were  for  the  greater  part  only 
fatherly  chastisements. 

Thus  also  does  he  continue  to  watch  over  his  spiri- 
tual Israel.  The  Christian  pilgrim  has  still  the  mighty 
God  for  his  preserver,  as  well  as  for  his  guide.  Sur- 
rounded by  a  thousand  dangers,  and  forced  to  war  witli 
a  thousand  enemies,  as  long  as  he  is  conscious  of  his 
own  weakness  and  flies  to  his  God  for  refuge,  ht-  is  as 
safe,  as   though  there  were  not  a  single  danger  nor  a 


God  to  Israel.  161 

single  enemy  in  his  path.  And  what,  if  he  be  led  into 
new  and  untried  scenes  of  difficulty  and  trial  ?  What, 
if  he  be  brought  into  fiery  afflictions  ?  They  may  alarm, 
but  they  cannot  injure  him.  They  may  instruct,  and 
benefit,  and  help  him  forward  on  his  sacred  journey, 
but  they  cannot  tear  his  soul  from  the  hand  of  God. 

There  are  indeed  some  seasons  in  the  Christian's 
prilgrimage,  in  which  he  finds  it  difficult  to  believe 
that  God  has  not  forsaken  him.  Affliction  heaped 
upon  affliction  presses  on  his  head ;  the  consolations 
"which  he  once  enjoyed,  are  withdrawn  ;  his  way  seems 
hedged  up  with  thorns  ;  and  all  around  him  is  mystery, 
gloom,  and  darkness.  And  yet  at  the  very  moment, 
when  he  is  well  nigh  borne  down  with  the  weight  of 
his  sorrows  and  perplexities,  and  can  scarcely  lift  up  a 
last  and  almost  despairing  cry  for  help,  he  feels  the 
everlasting  arm  of  Jehovah  placed  underneath  him;  he 
sees  his  before  invisible  hand  guiding  him  in  the  wil- 
derness ;  he  hears  his  voice  saying  to  his  fainting  soul, 
*'  Fear  thou  not,  for  I  am  with  thee  ;  be  not  dismayed, 
for  I  am  thy  God.  1  have  redeemed  thee ;  I  have 
called  thee  by  thy  name  :  thou  art  mine.  When  thou 
passcst  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee ;  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee.  When 
thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt  not  be  burned, 
neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  thee." 

2.  But  in  what  manner  does  the  Lord  thus  afflict, 
guide,  and  defend  his  servants  ? 

He  exercises  his  mercy  towards  them  constantly. 
Not  that  the  Almighty  is  ever  afflicting  his  children. 
It  is  true  that  he  loves  them  too  well  to  withhold  afflic- 
tion from  them  when  they  need  it;  but  he  will  never 
continue  it  one  moment  longer  than  their  spiritual 
wants  require.     But  though  his  afflictive  mercies  may 

X 


16S  The  Goodness  of 

endure  only  for  a  season,  his  guiding  and  preserving 
care  is  never  withdrawn  from  his  church.  "  He  with- 
draweth  not  his  eye  from  the  righteous,"  says  Job. 
"  Behold,"  says  David,  "  he  that  keepeth  Israel  neither 
slumbereth  nor  sleepeth."  In  some  season  of  perplexity 
and  fear,  Zion  may  say,  "  The  Lord  hath  forsaken  me, 
and  my  Lord  hath  forgotten  me  ;"  but  what  is  the  an- 
swer of  Zion's  God  ?  ^'  Can  a  woman  forget  her  suck- 
ing child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the 
son  of  her  womb  ?  Yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  not 
1  forget  thee.  Behold  I  have  graven  thee  upon  the 
palms  of  my  hands  j  thy  walls  are  continually  before 
me." 

The  Lord  exercises  his  mercy  towards  his  saints 
patiently.  With  what  patience  and  gentleness  did  he 
lead  his  ancient  people  to  Canaan  !  Numerous  as  were 
their  provocations,  for  forty  years  the  guiding  pillar 
never  forsook  them.  Its  progress  too  was  regulated 
accoiding  to  the  vi-eakness  and  infirmities  of  the  peo- 
ple, whom  it  was  leading.  When  they  were  weary, 
N^t  rested  ;  and  when  they  were  collecting  their  manna, 
preparing,  and  eating  it,  it  stood  still  and  hurried  them 

OOt. 

And  does  not  this  pillar  remind  us  of  the  patience 
and  gentleness  of  one,  who  leadeth  his  flock  like  a 
shepherd,  *'  who  gathereth  the  lambs  with  his  arm, 
and  carrieth  them  in  his  bosom,  and  gently  leadeth 
those  that  are  with  young  ?"  No  other  guide  could  be 
thus  patient  and  gentle  towards  us.  The  meekest  man 
upon  earth,  yea,  the  most  merciful  angel  in  heaven, 
could  not  thus  bear  with  us.  Our  continual  and  aggra- 
vated provocations  would  soon  force  them  to  leave  us. 
But  God  does  not  leave  us.  Christ  does  not  forsake 
us.    He,   who  once  bore  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on 


i^ocl  to  Israel.  163 

the  tree,  bears  with  our  infirmities  now  :  and  when  the 
Christian  recollects  how  long  and  how  patiently  he  has 
borne  with  him,  and  how  gently  and  tenderly  he  is 
leading  him  to  glory,  his  heart  is  filled  with  wonder, 
as  well  as  softened  by  love. 

The  similitude  in  the  text  reminds  us,  lastly,  that 
the  loving-kindness,  which  God  exercises  towards  his 
people,  he  exercises  with  delight,  with  the  same  plea- 
surable feelings,  with  which  a  tender-hearted  parent 
watches  over  and  provides  for  his  child.  What  the 
Almighty  does  for  his  pardoned  children,  he  does,  not 
grudgingly  nor  of  necessity,  but  bountifully  and  cheer- 
fully, with  the  affection  of  a  father  as  well  as  the  libe- 
rality  of  a  prince.  Tlie  Bible  tells  us  that  the  Lord 
delighteth  in  the  mercy,  which  he  pours  out  on  them 
that  seek  him,  and  waiteth,  and,  as  it  were,  longeth  to 
be  gracious  unto  them.  It  warrants  us  to  conclude 
that  his"  chief  delight  is  not  in  the  angels,  which  sur- 
round his  throne  with  rapturous  hallelujahs,  but  in  that 
broken-hearted,  contrite  sinner,  who  comes  to  him  fear- 
ing his  name,  mourning  over  his  rebellion  against  him, 
-"=:«ftd  sighing  for  his  salvation.  "  The  Lord  taketh 
pleasure,"  says  the  psalmist,  *'  in  them  that  fear  him, 
in  those  that  hope  in  his  mercy."  And  this  is  the  pro- 
mise, which  he  himself  makes  to  his  servants  by  his 
prophet,  "  I  will  rejoice  over  them  to  do  them  good, 
and  1  will  plant  them  in  this  land  assuredly,  with  my 
whole  heart  and  with  my  whole  soul." 

The  review,  which  we  have  thus  taken  of  the  good- 
ness of  God  to  his  ancient  people,  is  calculated  to  re- 
mind his  spiritual  Israel  of  many  grounds  of  consola- 
tion and  thankfulness.  It  suggests  to  them  also  a 
lesson,  which  they  sometimes  find  it  difficult  to  learn, 
but  which,  when  it  is  once  learned;  can  keep  the  most 


164  The  Goodness  of 

troubled  soul  in  perfect  peace.  It  calls  upon  them  to 
trust  implicitly  in  God,  and  it  offers  them  a  solid  loun- 
dation,  on  which  to  build  their  confidence.  It  assures 
them  that  the  Lord  will  not  suffer  his  portion  to  be  lost, 
nor  his  inheritance  to  be  injured  ;  that  he  will  not  suf- 
fer the  people,  whom  he  has  formed  for  himself  and  on 
Avhom  he  has  lavished  so  much  grace,  to  be  ruined  by 
the  calamities  of  this  life,  or  touched  by  the  miseries 
of  another.  He  has  already  removed  the  sorrows  of 
eternity  far  from  them,  and  as  for  the  afflictions  of  this 
present  time,  the  text  tells  us  that  he  has  turned  them 
into  blessings.  It  teaches  us  that  the  trials,  which 
seem  so  grievous  to  us,  are  only  a  part  of  our  pur^ 
chased  inheritance ;  that  our  heaviest  sorrows  are 
among  our  highest  privileges. 

Surely  then  it  becomes  us  to  receive  every  cup  of 
affliction,  which  is  held  out  for  us  to  drink,  at  least 
with  patience  and  submission.  It  becomes  not  a  child 
to  indulge  a  fearful,  disconsolate  murmuring  spirit, 
while  receiving  blessings  from  the  hand  of  a  father. 
O  if  there  be  a  creature  in  the  universe,  who  has  rea- 
son to  trust  in  God  and  to  hope  in  his  mercy,  it  is  that 
inhabitant  of  the  earth,  whom  affliction  has  stopped  in 
his  thoughtless  career  of  sin,  whom  sorrow  has  taught 
to  pray,  whom  adversity  has  led  to  seek  in  Christ  a 
Refuge,  a  Comforter,  and  a  Saviour  !  instead  of  draw- 
ing from  painful  trials,  frowning  providences,  and  per- 
plexing difficulties,  grounds  for  discouragement  and 
despondency,  such  a  man  has  reason  to  rejoice  exceed- 
ingly in  tribulation,  to  weep  with  gratitude,  and  to 
burn  with  love.  Though  he  is  in  the  waste  and  howl- 
ing wilderness  of  the  world,  there  is  not  an  angel  in 
heaven  so  rich  in  mercies  as  he,  nor  so  beloved  by  his 
God  ;  none,  whose  inheritance  in  eternity  is  more  glori- 


God  to  Israel.  165 

0U3  or  more  secure.  As  long  as  he  continues  to  love 
and  fear  the  Lord,  he  has  not  only  his  mercy  and  good- 
ness to  encourage  him  ;  he  hath  his  faithfulness,  yea, 
his  oath  and  his  eternal  purpose,  to  rejoice  in.  In  every 
season  of  suffering  and  sorrow,  he  has  these  words  of 
his  Saviour  to  think  of  and  depend  on  ;  *•  Fear  not 
little  flock,  for  it  is  the  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give 
you  the  kingdom."  He  has  these  words  of  the  psalmist, 
which  he  is  allowed  to  use  as  his  own  ;  "  Surely  good- 
ness and  mercy  shall  follow  me  all  the  days  of  my  life, 
and  1  shall  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  for  ever.  I 
am  continually  with  thee,  O  Lord  ;  thou  hast  holden 
me  by  my  right  hand.  Thou  shalt  guide  me  by  thy 
counsel,  and  afterward  receive  me  to  glory.  Whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  and  there  is  none  upon 
earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee.  My  flesh  and  my  heart 
faileth,  but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  Jieart  and  my 
portion  for  ever." 

But  there  is  another  class  of  persons,  to  whom  the 
subject  before  us  speaks  ;  yea,  it  speaks  to  us  all,  and 
calls  upon  us  to  enquire  whether  we  have  any  part  in  the 
blessedness  we  have  been  contemplating,  whether  the 
happiness  of  Israel  is  our  own.  It  is  not  all  mankind, 
to  whom  the  Lord  is  thus  rich  in  goodness.  His  tender 
mercies  indeed  are  over  all  his  works,  and  there  is  not 
a  sinner  living  on  the  earth,  who  is  not  a  monument 
of  his  goodness  and  a  marvellous  instance  of  his  mercy. 
But  then  the  loving-kindness,  which  is  spoken  of  in 
the  text,  is  that  special  loving- kindness,  that  peculiar 
mercy,  v/hich  he  manifests  only  to  his  spiritual  Israel ; 
to  those,  whom  he  has  chosen  in  Christ  out  of  man- 
kind, ar.d  brought,  by  his  grace,  out  of  that  state  of 
distance  from  him,  of  danger,  and  want,  in  which  he 
found  them,  into  a  state  of  union  with  himself,  of  par 


166  The  Goodness  of 

don,  security,  and  peace.  Now  if  we  are  included  ia 
the  number  of  these  happy  people,  we  have  felt  our- 
selves to  be  in  a  guilty,  and  consequently  in  a  needy 
and  perishing  condition  ;  and  we  have  fled  to  Christ 
as  ruined  sinners  to  a  Saviour.  We  have  learned  to 
hope  in  him  and  to  tread  in  his  footsteps.  We  have 
his  Spirit  reigning  within  us,  and  we  are  in  some  de- 
gree like  him.  If  we  have  been  visited  with  afflictions, 
they  have  done  more  for  us,  than  fill  our  minds  with 
sorrow  and  our  eyes  with  tears ;  they  have  softened 
our  hearts,  taught  us  more  of  our  sinfulness  and  weak- 
ness, weaned  us  from  the  world,  and  made  us  long  for 
heaven.  If  these  feelings  have  not  been  excited  within 
us,  and  if  these  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  not  visible  in 
cur  dispositions  and  lives,  we  are  not  the  portion  of  the 
Lord,  we  are  not  the  lot  of  his  inheritance.  The  God 
of  Israel  is  not  leading  us  to  heaven,  but  we  are  fol- 
lowing another  guide  to  another  and  a  very  different 
place.  We  have  Satan  for  our  leader,  and  the  land  of 
darkness  for  our  home. 

And  yet,  brethren,  it  is  awful  to  think  how  easy 
many  of  us  remain  under  such  guidance,  and  with  this 
dreadful  prospect  before  us.  We  are  far  more  careless 
and  unconcerned,  though  travelling  in  the  road  to  de- 
struction, than  they  are,  who  are  journeying  to  a  land 
of  life  and  of  rest.  Whence  arises  our  lightness  of 
heart  ?  Have  we  really  made  a  wiser  choice  than  the 
people  of  God?  Is  the  guide  we  have  chosen  a  better 
guide  than  Christ  ?  Has  he  a  stronger  arm  to  protect 
us  ?  Does  he  afford  us  greater  consolation,  and  will  he 
lead  us  to  a  happier  place  ?  Alas,  no !  Destruction  and 
misery  are  in  his  ways,  and  his  footsteps  go  down  unto 
death.  It  is  our  thoughtlessness,  not  our  securit3% 
which  keeps  us  so  easy.    It  is  our  awful  insensibility. 


God  to  Israel  167 

which  hardens  our  hearts,  and  blinds  our  eyes  to  the 
evils  which  surround  us.  But  this  thoughtlessness 
and  this  insensibility  will  not  last  for  ever.  When  the 
journey  of  life  is  done,  they  will  come  to  an  everlasting 
end,  and  we  know  by  what  they  will  be  succeeded  ;  by 
the  pangs  of  that  worm,  which  dieth  not,  and  of  that 
fire,  which  is  not  quenched. 

Strive  then  to  be  serious  and  thoughtful  now,  when 
seriousness  may  be  made  the  means  of  leading  you  to 
Christ,  and  thoughtfulness  to  heaven.  Pray  for  a  feel- 
ing heart.  Welcome  the  bitterest  afflictions,  which 
through  grace,  may  force  you  to  think  of  your  souls 
and  eternity.  Be  thankful  for  every  thing,  which  has 
a  tendency  to  render  you  dissatisfied  with  the  wages 
of  vanity  and  sin,  and  to  lead  you  to  seek  the  paths  of 
wisdom  and  God.  These  paths  are  lying  open  before 
you,  if  you  have  but  a  sincere  desire  to  walk  in  them; 
and  there  is  a  Holy  Spirit  appointed  and  waiting  to 
lead  you  to  them,  and  to  guide  your  feet  into  the  way 
of  peace.  Commit  yourselves  therefore  to  his  gracious 
guidance.  Seek  it  by  prayer.  If  you  seek  it  in  earnest, 
you  will  not  seek  it  in  vain.  He  will  restore  your  wan- 
dering soul,  and  lead  you  in  the  paths  of  righteousness 
for  his  names'  sake.  He  will  instruct  you,  as  he  leads 
you  about ;  and  when  he  has  taught  you  all,  that  the 
waste  and  howling  wilderness  is  designed  to  teach  you, 
he  will  remove  you  from  its  agitated  scenes,  and  place 
you  in  the  peaceful  and  blessed  paradise  of  your  God. 


SERMON  XII. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  JOURNEYING  10  THE 
PROi\USED  LAND. 


NUMBERS  X.  29. 

ITc  are  journeying  unto  the  place,  of  which  the  Lord  said,  "  /  iviii  ^ivr 
It  you :"  come  thou  ivith  us,  and  we  ivill  do  thee  good,  for  the  Lord 
hath  s/iokcn  good  concei-ning  Israel. 

A  HE  place  referred  to  in  these  words  was  the  pro- 
mised land  of  Canaan.  The  Israelites  were  now  pre- 
paring to  leave  mount  Sinai,  and  to  renew  their  jour- 
ney through  the  wilderness  to  this  long  wished  for 
country.  Before  however  they  finally  leave  the  mount, 
we  find  Moses  endeavouring  to  prevail  on  Hobab,  his 
father-in-law,  to  accompany  them  in  their  pilgrimage, 
and  to  share  in  the  promised  advantages  of  their  future 
home.  *'  We  are  journeying,"  says  he,  "  unto  the 
place,  of  which  the  Lord  said,  ^1  will  give  it  you:* 
come  thovi  with  us,  and  we  vvHl  do  thee  good,  for  the 
Lord  hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel." 

Such  was  the  primary  meaning  of  the  words  before 
us  ;  but  the  general  tenour  of  Scripture,  when  speaking 
of  the  journey  of  the  Israelites  through  the  wilderness 
to  Canaan,  will  perhiips  justify  us  in  viewing  them  in 
another  and  a  more  spiritual  light.  They  may  be  con- 
sidered as  affording  us  a  simple  and  striking  emblem 
of  the  state  and  conduct  of  the  Christian  in  the  world. 
He  is  here  in  a  wilderness ;  the  Lord  has  promised 
him  beyond  it  a  land  of  rest ;  he  is  journeying  to  this 


The  Christian  journeying^  &c.  169 

land ;  and  would   have  all  men  become  his  fellow  tra- 
vellers in  the  way,  which  leads  to  it. 

■  \  ievved  in  this  light,  the  text  furnishes  us  with  three 
subjects  of  consideration;  the  place  spoken  of  in  it; 
the  conduct  of  the  Christian  with  respect  to  this  place  ; 
and  the  advice,  which  he  gives  to  others  as  he  journeys 
towards  it. 

I.  The  place  spoken  of  in  the  text  is  Canaan,  a  type 
of  heaven,  that  far  distant  but  better  country,  which  all 
the  Israel  of  God  have  ever  regarded  as  the  scene  of 
their  blessedness  and  their  home.   ^^^ 

1.  Hence  it  is,  first,  a  much  wished  for  place.  It  is 
a  place,  to  which  the  Christian  is  jouri^eying,  and  con- 
sequently a  place,  which  he  wishes  to  rfiach.  Like  the 
saints  of  old,  he  desires  a  better  country,  even  a  hea- 
venlys.  He  is  really  anxious  to  be  iii  heaven,  and 
would;  gladly  leave  the  world  and  go  thg-e. 

This  desire  is  not  natural  to  us.  £^  long  as  our 
hearts  remain  in  an  unrenewed  state,  we  feel  nothing 
of  this  earnest  longing-  after  heaven.  We  are  in  fact 
altogether  indifferent  about  it.  We  know  iiideed  that 
we  must  die?  and  we  wish  to  go  to  heaven  when 
we  die  ;  but  why  do  we  wish  to  go^tliere  ?  Because  we 
love  heaven,  and  are  thirsting  aft^r  its  joys  ?  No  ;  be- 
cause we  cannot  remain  any  loager  upon  earth,  and  are 
not  willing  to  endure  the  pains  of  hell.  If  we  could 
remain  here,  though  we  feel  that  we  are  in  a  wilderness, 
here  we  should  be  anxious  to  remain,  and  be  content 
to  let  heaven  be  peopled  from  some  other  world.  Only 
let  us  stay  on  the  earth,  and  give  us  our  full  share  of 
its  vanities,  pleasures,  and  riches,  and  we  will  willingly 
leave  to  the  angels  the  joys  and  honours  of  the  hea- 
venly kingdom. 

The  cause  of  this  indifference  about  heaven  must  be* 

Y 


17U  The  Clunstian  journeying 

sought  for  in  the  earlhliness  and  sensuality  of  our  minds. 
We  have  lost  that  holy  and  heavenly  principle,  which 
was  at  first  implanted  in  our  souls,  and  we  are  become 
almost  as  low  and  grovelling  in  our  desires,  r.s  the 
brutes  that  perish. 

Now  the  gospel  provides  a  remedy  for  this  earthly- 
rnindedness.  Jt  speaks  to  us  not  only  of  mercy  to  save 
the  soul,  but  of  grace  to  change  the  heart.  It  offers  to 
bring  back  to  the  mind,  the  principle  it  has  lost,  to  lift 
its  affections  from  the  world,  and  to  fix  them  on  heaven 
and  God.  Nothing  but  the  gospel  can  effect  this  change, 
and  none  but  the  man  who  loves  the  gosj>eI,  has  expe- 
rienced it ;  yea,  none  other  heariily  desires  it.  It  would 
mar  all  the  sensual  enjoyments  of  every  other  man, 
throw  a  sickening  draught  into  his  cup  of  pleasure, 
and  make  him  turn  with  disgust  from  his  much  loved 
follies.  Others  may  talk  of  heaven,  and  say  that  they 
wish  to  be  there  ;  but  the  reneued  Christian  is  the  only 
man  in  the  world,  v.  ho  understands  the  nature  of  its 
joys,  and  habitually  and  heartily  desires  to  have  a  place 
in  its  courts.  If  we  ask  how  it  is,  that  he  has  thus 
learned  to  thirst  afier  that  which  all  other  men  despise, 
the  answer  is  pluin — he  is  born  from  above,  and  he 
wants  to  breathe  his  native  air,  and  to  share  in  the  en- 
joymer^ts  of  his  native  land. 

2.  The  text  reminds  us,  secondly,  that  heaven  is  a 
promised  place,  *•'  We  are  journeying  unto  the  place, 
of  which  the  Lord  said,  *  1  will  give  it  you.'  "  The 
heavenly  Canaan  is  as  much  a  land  of  promise,  as  the 
earthly  Canaan  was.  It  has  been  as  often  and  as  so- 
lemnly promised  to  the  spiritual  seed  of  Aljraham,  as 
that  goodly  land  was  to  his  natural  seed.  "  This  is  the 
promise,"  says  the  apostle,  "  that  he  hath  promised  us, 
even  eternal  life."     And  this  promise  has  been  made 


to  the  Promised  Land.  171 

not  onlv  to  the  believer,  but  to  a  greater  than  he  on  his 
behalf.  In  the  councils  of  eternity,  heaven  was  pro- 
mised to  the  anointed  Saviour,  as  an  eternal  dwelling- 
place  fv)r  his  ransoified  church.  ••  In  hope,"  says  Saint 
Paul,  "  of  eternal  liff,  which  God,  that  cannot  lie,  pro- 
mised before  the  wor!d  began." 

This  divine  promise  is  the  ground,  on  which  the 
Christian  rests  all  his  hope  of  life  and  immortality.  The 
light  of  nature  and  the  dictates  of  reason  tell  him  in- 
deed that  there  may  be  a  world  beyond  the  grave,  but 
it  is  the  Bible,  which  assures  him  that  verily  there  wa 
reward  for  the  righteous ;  it  is  the  promise  given  him 
in  the  Bible,  which  leads  him  to  look,  with  Saint  Peter, 
for  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dv\elleth 
'  ighteousness.  He  knows  that  if  he  has  really  fled  for 
refuge  to  lay  hold  of  the  hope  set  before  him  in  the 
gospel,  he  is  the  heir  of  a  promise,  which  has  been  con- 
lirmed  by  the  oatlv  of  Jehovah,  and  which  has  the  im- 
mutability of  his  counsel  to  ensure  the  fulfilment  of  it. 
He  draws  from  it  therefore  strong  consolation,  and  de- 
rives from  it  a  hope,  which  is  as  an  anchor  to  his  soul, 
sure  and  stedfdst. 

But  wiiv  has  the  Almighty  given  to  the  Christian 
this  exceeding  great  and  precious  promise  of  everlast- 
ing life  ?  Not  because  the  Christian  has  merited  this  or 
even  the  smallest  blessing  at  his  hands,  but  simply  for 
this  purpose,  to  magnify  the  riches  of  his  grace. 

3.  Hence  we  may  observe  that  the  country,  which  is 
promised  to  the  believer,  is  the  free  gift  of  God.  It  is 
a  place,  concerning  which  the  Lord  has  said,  "  I  will 
give  it  you."  The  Israelites  were  repeatedly  warned 
against  supposing  that  the  land  of  Canaan  was  marked 
out  for  them  on  account  of  any  goodness  which  the 
Lord  saw  in  them  ;  and  the  people  who  are  travelling 


172  The  Christian  journeying 

to  the  heavenly  country,  are  as  often  reminded  that  it 
is  not  in  consequence  of  any  merit  or  righteousness  of 
theirs,  that  they  will  be  allowed  to  enter  into  it.  Eter- 
nal life  is  always  represented  in  the  Scriptures  as  the 
gift  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord ;  not  as  a 
gift  partly  merited,  but  as  a  gift  wholly  undeserved, 
given  to  the  believing  sinner  as  freely  as  the  rain,  which 
falls  down  from  heaven,  is  given  to  the  earth.  "  By 
grace  are  }e  Scued,"  says  the  apostle,  "  through  faith  ; 
and  that  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift  of  God,  not  of 
works,  lest  any  man  should  boast." 

This  is  a  very  humbling  truth,  my  brethren,  and  a 
truth,  which  ue  are  very  unwilling  to  believe.  We  do 
not  like  the  thought  of  entering  heaven  on  such  terms 
as  these.  We  know  indeed  that  we  are  sinners,  and  we 
are  w  illing  to  be  treated  in  some  degree  as  sinners,  and 
could  even  consent  to  be  saved  partly  through  grace  ; 
but  then  we  are  not  willing  to  be  sunk  so  low,  as  to  be 
accounted  utterly  undeserving,  utterly  worthless ;  yea, 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  greater  part  of  mankind 
would  rather  lose  heaven,  than  receive  it  solely  as  a 
gift  of  mercy. 

This  truth  however  is  as  important,  as  it  is  humbling. 
All  the  other  truths  of  the  gospel  rest  on  it.  It  lies  at 
the  very  foundation  of  all  true  religion,  and  no  man  is  a 
Christian,  who  has  not  a  heart-felt  conviction  of  it.  It 
must  find  its  way  into  the  understanding  and  aifcctions, 
or  the  soul  must  be  lost,  if  we  would  ever  see  the 
kingdf)m  of  God,  we  must  not  only  perceive  the  neces- 
sity of  entering  it  in  the  same  humiliating  way,  as  the 
pardoned  criminal  on  the  cross  entered  it,  but  be  will- 
ing to  enter  it  in  this  way,  rather  than  in  any  other. 
We  must  ypprove  this  way,  love  it,  yea,  glory  in  it. 

But  though  heaven  is  thus  a  free  gift  to  the  Christian, 


to  the  Promised  Land,  173 

it  Is  still,  in  one  sense,  a  purchased  possession.  It  was 
obtained  for  him  by  a  costly  price,  even  the  blood  of 
him,  who  now  reigns  in  its  courts  and  gives  it  all  its 
joys.  Christ  purchased  the  church  with  his  own  blood, 
and  with  the  same  price  he  purchased  for  his  church 
an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefikd,  eternal  in  the 
heavens. 

This  then  is  the  place  spoken  of  in  the  text.  It  is  a 
much  wished  for  place,  a  promised  place,  and  a  place, 
which  is  the  free  gift  of  God. 

II.  Let  us  proceed  to  consider,  secondly,  the  con- 
duct of  the  Christian  with  regard  to  this  place. 

It  is  evident  that  this  heavenly  country  has  litde  or 
no  influence  on  the  hearts  and  lives  of  mankind  in  gene- 
ral. We  profess  to  believe  that  there  is  such  a  land 
somewhere  in  the  universe,  but  we  think  and  act  just 
as  though  it  could  no  where  be  found.  If  heaven  were 
to  be  blotted  out  from  the  creation,  or  if  an  impassable 
gulph  were  to  be  fixed  between  it  and  the  earth,  our 
dispositions,  our  afiections,  and  our  conduct  would  in 
too  many  instances  remain  the  same  as  they  are  now. 
But  this  promised  land  has  a  real  and  abiding  influence 
on  the  people  of  God.  They  seek  it ;  they  travel  to- 
wards it.  "  JFe  are  journey hig  unto  the  place,  of  which 
the  Lord  said,  *  1  will  give  it  you.'  " 

1.  To  be  journeying  to  heaven  implies,  first,  an  ac- 
tual entrance  into  the  path^  which  leads  to  it.  The 
Christian'^  desires  after  this  goodly  land  have  not  enat  d 
in  a  few  lazy  wishes  and  languid  prayers.  They  have 
excited  him  to  action.  The  man  has  been  roused  from 
his  spiritual  unconcern ;  he  has  been  led  to  see  the  va- 
nity of  the  world  and  all  it  possesses ;  he  has  begun  to 
make  enquiries  about  a  way  to  some  better  country ; 
he  has  been  shewn  and  taught  this  way  by  the  Spirit  of 


174^  The  Chrutian  journeying 

God  ;  in  the  strength  of  the  same  Spirit  he  has  actually 
entered  in  at  its  strait  gate,  and  btcome  a  traveller 
towards  Zinn. 

Hence  it  is  plain  that  the  Christian,  at  the  very  com- 
mencement of  his  course,  gives  up  the  world,  turns  his 
back  upon  Egypt,  and  sets  his  face  towards  Canaan. 
No  man  n)ust  think  himself  a  Christian  traveller,  till 
he  has  done  this.  Heaven  and  th.e  world  are  places  di- 
rectly opposed  to  each  other  in  the  holy  Scriptures. 
We  are  repeatedly  warned  against  the  folly  of  seeking 
both  at  the  same  time.  We  are  plainly  told  that  it  is 
impossible  to  be  travelling  to  the  one,  while  we  are 
dwelling  contentedly  in  the  other. 

2.  To  be  journeying  to  heaven  implies,  further,  per- 
severance in  seeking  it.  It  is  not  the  entering  into  a 
right  road,  that  will  bring  a  man  to  the  end  of  his  jour- 
ney, but  an  acrive  and'  continued  travelling  along  it. 
Nothing  less  than  forty  years  of  patient  labour  and  ex- 
ertion brought  Israel  to  Canaan.  The  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven must  be  sought  with  the  same  perseverance,  or  we 
shall  never  arrive  there.  We  must  travel  on  in  the  nar- 
row way,  which  leadcth  unto  life,  as  well  as  enter  it. 

We  are  too  apt,  my  brethren,  to  forget  this  truth. 
We  seem  to  think  at  seasons  that  religion  is  the  work 
of  a  few  days  or  weeks  only ;  that  when  we  have  passed 
through  a  certain  train  of  feelings,  and  embraced  a  cer- 
tain system  of  doctrines,  all  is  done  and  over ;  that  the 
work  of  conversion  is  finished,  our  salvation  completed, 
and  heaven  made  our  own.  But  yet  how  unscriptural 
are  these  thoughts !  The  Bible  plainly  tells  us  that  our 
whole  life  must  be  a  life  of  faith,  of  repentance,  of 
wrestling,  and  of  warfare.  It  intimates  to  us  that  the 
oldest  and  strongest  servant  of  God  has  just  as  much 
reed  to  uork  out  his  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling, 


to  the  Promised  Land.  175 

as  the  yougest  and  weakest ;  that  he  has  just  as  much 
need  of  sorrow  for  sin^  of  earnest  prayer,  of  continual 
application  to  the  cross,  of  the  most  striving  exertion. 
The  Bible  goes  still  further. 

3.  We  are  uarranted  to  infer  from  it,  that  if  we  arc 
journeying  to  heaven,  we  have  not  only  kept  in  the 
road  which  leads  to  heaven,  but  have  actually  made  a 
progress  in  it ;  that,  instead  of  declining,  we  are  grow- 
ing in  grace  ;  that  we  are  gradually  becoming  more  and 
more  meet  to  be  partakers  of  heaven,  the  nearer  we 
draw  to  it.  "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining 
light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  untn  tlie  perfect  day." 
The  righteous  shall  hold  on  his  way,  and  he  that  hath 
clean  hands,  shall  be  stranger  and  stronger.  There  is 
no  standing  still  in  religion.  We  are  either  slowly 
climbing  up  the  hill  of  Zion,  or  rapidly  hurrying  down 
it.  If  we  are  conscious  that  we  are  not  gradually 
ascending  it,  we  can  surely  have  no  reason  to  hope, 
that  we  shall  ever  reach  the  city  of  God  on  its  summit. 

It  is  however  an  easy  thing  to  be  aware  of  having 
lost  our  first  love,  and  yet  to  retain  our  presumptuous 
confidence.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  be  for  years  strangers 
to  the  tear  of  penitence,  and  to  feel  nothing  of  the  energy 
of  faith,  and"  vet  to  rank  ourselves  still  in  the  number 
of  the  elect.  But  the  only  religion,  brethren,  which  will 
bring  peace  to  a  man's  heart  in  the  hour  of  affliction 
and  death,  and  bear  the  fiery  trial  of  the  day  of  judg- 
ment, is  that,  which  is  on  the  whole  a  growing  religion  ; 
which  deepens  day  by  day  the  workings  of  repentance 
and  faith  within  us  ;  which  enlarges  year  by  year  our 
views  of  our  own  depravity,  and  of  Jehovah's  grace; 
which  makes  the  fire  of  devotion  burn  with  a  purer  and 
a  brighter  flame  the  longer  it  remains  on  the  altar  of 
the  heart,  and  fixes  the  soul  more  and  m(^re  closely  on 


176  The  Christian  journeywg 

its  God.  We  are  not  indeed  to  suppose  that  this  reli- 
gion never  receives  a  tempcjrary  check,  ror  that  the 
ipan  who  poss' sses  it,  is  always  aware  of  its  progress  in 
bis  mind  ;  but  we  have  the  authority  of  Scripture  for 
conckiding  that,  notwithstanding  occasional  declen- 
sions, it  is  habitually  going  on  unto  perfection  ;  that  it 
is  a  plant,  wh;ch  will  strike  its  roots  deeper,  and  send 
its  branches  higher,  and  bring  forth  in  its  season  more 
abundant  fruit,  till  it  is  removed  to  the  paradise 
of  God. 

4.  There  is  implied,  fourthly,  in  journeying  to  the 
heavenly  Canaan,  a  fixed  determination  to  arrive  there. 
The  exjiresbion  implies  decision  of  character;  a  will- 
ingness to  sicrifice  every  thing,  so  that  the  soul  may  be 
saved,  and  heaven  won. 

Now  this  is  not  a  common  frame  of  mind,  and  yet 
the  Scriptures  give  us  no  reason  to  think  that  we  are 
going  to  heaven,  if  we  do  not  possess  it.  It  is  true  that 
the  Bible  says,  that  heaven  is  the  free  gift  of  God,  and 
that  no  man  can  do  any  thing  whatsoever  towards  me- 
riting it ;  but  yet  this  sacred  volume  as  plainly  declares 
that  the  gift  will  be  bestowed  on  him  only,  who  is 
making  it  the  great  business  of  his  life  to  obtain  it. 
Half  measures  are  seldom  attended  with  the  desired 
success,  even  in  the  common  affairs  of  life;  but  how 
much  less  likely  arc  they  to  succeed,  when  flesh  and 
blood  are  to  be  wrestled  with  and  overcome,  when  the 
immortal  soul  is  to  be  saved,  and  a  crown  of  eternal 
glory  to  be  obtained  ! 

Are  we  then,  my  brethren,  making  it  the  one  thing 
needful,  the  great  object  of  our  hopes  and  fears,  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  If  this  be  indeed  our 
conduct,  we  shall  find  that  we  have  no  time  to  trifle,  as 
the  world  around  us  is  trifling ;   that  the  work  we  are 


to  the  Promised  Land,  177 

engaged  in,  will  not  allow  us  to  enter  into  the  vanities 
which  amu5:e  mankind  in  general.  We  shall  act  like 
men  on  a  journey,  which  requires  diligence  and  haste. 
We  shall  appear  among  our  brethren  as  strangers  and 
pilgrims,  and  declare  by  our  conduct  that  we  are  seek- 
ing another  country.  We  shall  obey  that  command  of 
the  Bible,  which  calls  upon  us  to  •'  lay  aside  every 
weight,  and  the  sin  that  doth  so  easily  beset  us,  and  run 
with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us ;  looking 
unto  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith." 

III.  In  thus  prosecuting  his  sacred  journey  through 
the  world  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  it  is  evident  that 
the  Christian  must  necessarily  separate  himself  fronl 
many  of  his  brethren,  with  whom  he  would  otherwise 
have  contentedly  associated.  But,  although  he  is  con- 
strained by  the  command  of  his  God  and  the  very  na- 
ture of  the  work  in  which  he  is  engaged,  to  come  out 
from  among  the  ungodly  and  worldly,  he  does  not  con- 
sider liimself  as  unconnected  with  them,  nor  does  he 
cease  to  regard  them  as  brethren.  Moses  dared  not  to 
return  with  Hobab  to  his  idols,  yet  we  find  him  mani- 
festing the  greatest  anxiety  for  Hobab's  happiness. 
"  Come  thou  with  us,"  says  he,  "  and  we  will  do  thee 
STood." 

1.  If  we  regard  this  invitation  as  the  advice  of  the 
Christian  traveller  to  his  fellow  sinners  around  him,  it 
implies,  first,  that  he  has  a  sincere  and  earmst  desire  to 
bring  them  into  that  path  to  heaven,  into  zvhich  he  him- 
self has  entered.  Tiie  Christian  is  not,  he  cannot  be, 
a  selfish  being.  That  very  love,  which  saves  him  from 
spiritual  and  eternal  death,  constrains  him  to  live  no 
longer  unto  himstlf ;  it  enlarges  his  soul,  and  fills  it 
with  the  purest  and  most  exalted  benevolence.  As  soon 
therefore  as  he  begins  in  good  earnest  to  seek  heaven 

Z 


17S  The  Christian  jour neyi7ig 

for  himself,  he  begins  to  desire  that  others  may  seek  it 
iilso.  He  wishes  for  companions  in  his  pili^rimas^e,  and 
he  invites  and  urges  all  around  him  to  join  him  in  his 
journey  ;  yea,  there  is  not  a  human  being  on  the  earth, 
■whom  lie  would  not  rejoice  to  see  treading  the  same 
way  of  pleasantness,  in  which  he  is  walkinji^,  and  sha- 
ring with  him  the  blessedness  of  the  path  of  peace. 

\Vc  are  sadly  negligent,  brethren,  in  the  performance 
of  this  duty.  We  seem  indeed  to  have  almost  forgotten 
that  it  is  our  duty  to  be  deeply  and  tt  nderly  concerned 
for  the  eternal  happiness  of  our  brethren.  We  think  it 
wrong  to  suffer  their  bodily  wants  to  remain  unrelieved,^ 
but  as  for  the  wants  of  their  souls,  we  hardly  think  of 
them.  We  seem  as  though  we  could  suffer  them  to 
perish  for  ever,  without  a  single  effort  to  snatch  them 
from  destruction.  We  lament  perhaps  at  seasons  their 
ignorance  and  folly,  and  when  they  die,  we  wish  that 
they  had  died  Christians ;  but  sighs  and  wishes  are  not 
all  that  Christ  requires  at  our  hands.  He  reminds  us  of 
what  he  has  done  for  our  own  souls.  He  points  to  the 
manger  and  the  cross?  and  tells  us  to  let  the  same  mind 
be  in  us,  that  was  in  him.  He  bids  us  deny  ourselves 
fop  the  salvation  of  others,  to  labour  in  the  work,  and, 
if  need  be,  to  suffer  contradiction,  shame,  and  reproach, 
rather  than  desist  from  it. 

And  even  if  this  command  had  not  been  given  us,  a 
regard  to  our  own  happiness  and  spiritual  prosperity 
might  have  suggested  it  to  us.  If  we  succeed  in  per- 
suading others  to  join  us  in  our  journey  to  Canaan,  we 
win  souls  not  only  to  Christ,  but  to  ourselves  also  ;  we 
increase  the  number  of  those  who  are  the  fellow  helpers 
of  our  joy.  Those,  whom  we  prevail  on  to  travel  with 
us,  "  may  be  to  us  instead  of  eyes ;"  they  may  guide 
us,  assist  and  comfort  us  in  our  wearisome  pilgrimage. 


to  the  Promised  Land,  179 

We  shall  take  sweet  counsel  together,  and  walk  to  the 
house  of  God  in  company.  Who  can  tell  how  much 
we  shall  be  animated  by  their  love  and  zeal  ?  how  much 
the  languid  spirit  of  devotion  within  us  will  be  qnick- 
ened  by  their  burnii)g  hearts  ?  how  mucli  we  shall  be 
cheered  in  our  spiritual  trials  by  their  sympathy  and 
prayers?  And  O  who  can  say  what  our  reward  will  be 
ivhen  we  enter  heaven  ?  "  They  that  be  wise,"  says  the 
Scripture,  "  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firma- 
ment ;  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the 
stars  for  ever  and  ever." 

Neither  is  success  in  this  labour  of  love  so  difficult 
to  be  attained,  as  our  slothful  and  faithless  hearts  some- 
times represent  it.  It  is  true  that  the  chain,  which  ties 
our  brethren  to  the  world,  is  too  strong  to  be  broken 
by  our  feeble  arm ;  but  there  is  a  Holy  Spirit,  who  has 
strengthened  niany  an  arm  weak  and  feeble  as  our  own, 
and  enabled  it  to  deliver  many  a  wretched  sinner  from 
his  bondage.  A  sense  of  our  weakness  is  indeed  one  of 
the  very  best  qualifications,  with  which  we  can  begia 
this  arduous  work  ;  but  then  let  us  remember  also,  that 
with  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  everlasting  strength  ;  that  this 
almighty  Being  is  himself  interested  in  our  success ; 
that  he  desireth  not  the  death  of  a  sinner,  but  rather 
that  he  should  turn  from  his  wickedness  and  live ;  that 
he  has  said  to  every  one  of  us,  who  is  seeking  his  glory 
and  the  salvation  of  hij^  sinful  creatures,  *'  Fear  not, 
thou  worm  Jacob,  and  ye  men  of  Israel ;  I  will  help 
thee,  saith  tne  Lord  and  thy  Redeemer,  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel.  U'hou  shalt  thresh  the  mountains,  and  beat 
them  small,  and  shalt  make  the  hills  as  chaff." 

We  may  remember  too  for  our  encouragement,  that 
many,  who  have  at  first  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  invita- 
tions and  warnings  of  pious  friendship,  have  at  length 


180  The  Christian  jouvjieijhig 

listened  to  them,  and  begun  to  seek  the  Lord.  The 
bread  has  been  cast  upon  tlie  waters,  and  we  have 
thought  it  lost,  but  after  many  days  it  has  been  found 
again.  We  are  told  J  hat  Hobab  refused  at  first  to  ac- 
compauy  Moses  to  Canaan.  He  said  unto  him,  "  I  will 
not  go,  but  I  will  depart  to  mine  own  land,  and  to  my 
kindred  ;"  yet  Moses  was  not  discouraged  by  this  re- 
fusal. He  still  entreated,  and  reasoned,  and  promised  ; 
and  there  is  some  ground  to  suppose  from  a  passage  ia 
the  foiirdi  chapter  of  the  book  of  Judges,  that  he  finally 
prevailed.  Let  his  success  encourage  us  to  be  as  zea- 
lous and  persevering  as  he  was,  and  to  be  as  unwilling 
to  take  a  denial.  Our  feeble  efforts  may  be  blessed  at  a 
time  Vvhen  we  least  expect  a  blessing ;  yea,  though  we 
may  go  down  to  the  grave  without  seeing  the  fruit  of 
our  labours,  our  labours  may  not  be  in  vain.  Our  words 
may  be  remiembered  when  we  are  almost  forgotten,  and 
the  soul  of  our  friend  may  be  saved;  our  child  or  pa- 
rent, our  husband  or  wife,  may  be  snatched  as  a  brand 
from  the  burning,  and  may  be  through  eternity  our 
companion  in  glory,  our  joy,  and  our  crown. 

2.  The  invitation  of  Moses  implies  also,  that  the  Chris- 
tian is  tenderly  concerned/or  the  spiritual  welfare  and  hap- 
piness of  his  fellow  travellers^  as  well  as  for  the  repentance 
and  salvation  of  the  wandering  sinner.  Moses  not  only 
said  to  Hobab,  *'  Come  thou  with  us,"  but  he  adds  to  this 
invitation  a  promise,  "  We  will  do  thee  good;"  we  will 
not  make  light  of  you  nor  neglect  you;  we  will  not  regard 
you  as  a  stranger,  afteryou  have  joined  the  camp  of  Israel, 
but  we  will  treat  you  as  a  brother  and  a  friend.  "  And 
it  shall  be,  if  thou  go  with  ub,  yea,  it  shall  be,  that  what 
goodness  the  Lord  shall  do  unto  us,  tlic  same  will  we 
do  unto  thee." 

The  spirit,  which  dictated  these  words,  is  the  same 
.spirit;  that  reigns  in  every  Christian's  heart.  He  desires 


to  the  Promised  Land.  18  i 

to  do  good,  not  in  an  ungodly  world  only,  but  also  in 
his  Saviour's  church.  Hence  he  watches  over  his  fel- 
low pilgrims  in  their  journey,  not  that  he  may  i^nitify  a 
proud  and  censorious  spirit  by  the  discovery  of  their 
failings,  but  that  he  may  decide  the  wavering  among 
them,  warm  the  slothful,  comfort  the  feeble  minded, 
and  support  the  weak.  Like  his  compassionate  Master, 
he  enters  into  the  difficulties,  fears,  and  sorrows  of 
those,  who  are  travelling  with  him  to  Zion ;  he  bears 
their  burdens,  and  so  fulfils  the  law  of  Christ. 

3.  We  may  infer,  lastly,  from  this  invitation,  that  if 
we  would  ever  reach  the  kingdom  of  God,  we  must  joi?i 
ourselves  fiow  to  the  people  of  God.  "  Come  thou  -with 
?^^,"  was  the  advice  given  to  Hobab.  It  was  only  in 
company  with  the  Israelites,  that  he  could  share  their 
privileges  and  enter  into  the  land,  which  had  been 
marked  out  for  tiieir  inheritance ;  and  it  is  only  in  the 
society  of  those,  who  fear  the  Lord,  that  we  can  taste 
of  the  consolations  of  our  God,  and  draw  near  to  hia 
kingdom.  There  is  no  going  to  heaven  in  company 
with  those,  who  are  going  to  hell. 

Here  then  is  a  lesson  for  the  young.  In  forming  your 
connections  and  choosing  your  associates,  take  those 
only  for  your  friends,  who  will  consent  to  walk  with 
you  in  the  way  to  heaven,  and  who  give  you  reasona- 
ble ground  to  hope  that  they  are  already  seeking  that 
better  country,  and  will  help  you  forward  in  your  jour- 
ney to  it.  Jt  is  quite  sufficient,  my  young  friends,  to 
have  the  workings  of  your  own  evil  and  worldly  hearts 
to  struggle  with  on  the  road.  You  will  always  find 
<;;nough  in  their  temptations  to  lead  you  from  the  path, 
vvithout  calling  in  to  their  aid  the  example  and  entice- 
ments  of  frivolous  and  ungodly  companions. 

And  even  if  this  were  not  the  case,  even  if  v/c  could 


162  The  Christian  journeying 

take  the  thoughtless  and  sinful  as  the  friends  of  our 
youth,  without  being  impeded  by  them  in  our  course, 
would  it  be  wise  to  choose  for  our  most  beloved  asso- 
ciates upon  earth,  those  whom  we  should  dread  to  meet 
in  another  w^orld?  with  whom  we  should  tremble  to 
have  our  portion  in  eternity  ?  It  is  painful  to  say  fare- 
well even  for  a  short  season,  to  those  whom  we  love ; 
is  there  no  pang  then  in  bidding  an  eternal  adieu  to  our 
bosom  friends  at  the  grave?  is  there  no  anguish  in 
shuddering  at  the  very  thought  of  meeting  them  again? 
We  may  see  in  some  of  the  lovers  of  pleasure  around 
us,  much  to  admire  and  something  perhaps  to  com- 
mend ;  their  conduct  may  be  decent,  their  dispositions 
amiable,  and  their  society  pleasing ;  we  may  love  their 
cheerfulness  and  mirth  ;  but  in  a  few  fleeting  )  ears  all 
these  things  will  have  passed  away,  and  nothing  will  be 
left  to  us  from  our  intercourse  with  them,  but  the 
mournful  const:iousness  that  we  have  friends  in  eter- 
nity, whom  we  shall  see  no  more ;  that  we  have  friends 
gone  into  a  world,  where  no  sound  of  joy  has  ever  yet 
been  heard,  nor  one  ray  of  hope  ever  dawned. 

It  is  evident  therefore  that  our  present  happiness,  as 
well  as  our  future  safety,  is  connected  with  the  compa- 
nions to  whom  we  unite  ourselves.  Our  duty  then  is 
plain.  Let  us  love  our  fellow  sinners,  and  seek  to  do 
them  good ;  but,  if  they  are  determined  not  to  accom- 
pany us  to  heaven,  let  us  not,  for  the  sake  of  their  so- 
ciety and  friendship,  accompany  them  to  hell.  It  may 
sometimes  be  difficult  to  avoid  connecting  ourselves 
with  them  ;  many  reasons  may  be  brougiu  forward  to 
persuade  us  that  it  is  impossible  ;  but  let  us  oppose  to 
all  the  dictates  of  cowardice,  indifference,  and  w  orldly 
policy,  these  plain  words  of  the  Scripture,  "  The  friend- 
ship of  the  world  is  enmity  with  God.     Whosoever 


to  the  Promised  Land,  183 

therefore  will  be  a  friend  of  the  world  is  the  enemy  of 
God.  Be  ye  not  unequally  yoked  together  with  unbe- 
lievers, for  what  fellowship  hath  ng;hteousness  with  un- 
righteousness, and  what  communion  hath  light  with 
darkness,  and  what  agreement  hath  the  temple  of  God 
'\vith  idols  ?  for  ye  are  the  temple  of  the  living  God. 
Wherefore  come  out  from  amon^^  them,  and  be  ye 
separate,  saith  the  Lord,  and  touch  not  the  unclean 
thing;  and  I  will  receive  you,  and  nill  be  a  Father  unto 
you,  and  ye  shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters,  saith  the 
Lord  Almighty." 

Such  are  some  of  the  truths,  of  which  the  words  of 
Moses  in  the  text,  are  calculated  to  remind  us.  It  now 
remains  that  we  may  apply  them  to  ourselves. 

There  is  one  enquiry,  which  seems  to  be  at  once 
suggested  to  us  by  the  things,  which  we  have  heard. 
We  are  called  upon  by  them  seriously  to  ask,  whither 
we  are  journeying?  We  know  that  we  are  going  to  the 
grave.  This  is  a  journey,  which  u'e  began  as  soon  as 
■we  were  born,  and  we  have  been  ever  since  unceasingly 
pursuing  it.  But  what  is  the  grave  ?  It  is  not  the  final 
end  of  our  journey  ;  it  is  not  our  home.  It  is  only  a 
narrow  pass  out  of  time  into  eternity.  There  are  two 
other  worlds  lying  beyond  it,  a  world  of  everlasting 
blessedness,  and  another  of  never  ending  misery.  To 
the  one  or  the  other  of  these  worlds,  we  are  all  hourlv 
drawing  nearer.  We  shall  soon  arrive  in  one  of  them, 
and  be  lodged  in  it  as  our  eternal  home.  O  then,  bre- 
thren, let  us  put  this  question  seriously  to  ourselves — 
whither  arc  we  journeying  ?  Which  of  these  kingdoms 
of  eternity  are  we  approaching  ?  Are  we  standing  on 
the  borders  of  heaven,  or  on  the  brink  of  hell  ?  If  we 
are  living  as  mankind  in  general  live^  this  question  is 
very  easily  answered — we  are  hastening  to  a  world  of 


184  The  Christian  journeying,  i^c. 

misery.  "  Wide  is  the  gate,"  says  the  Scripture,  ''  and 
broad  is  the  way,  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and  many 
there  be,  which  go  in  thereat ;  because  strait  is  the 
"gate,  and  narrow  is  the  way,  which  leadeth  unto  hfe, 
and  few  there  be  that  find  it."  The  def>truction,  to 
which  the  broad  way  we  are  treading  in  will  lead  us, 
is  not  indeed  the  destruction  of  our  being,  but  it  is 
the  destruction  of  our  well  being ;  it  is  not  the  loss 
of  our  existence,  but  the  loss  of  every  thing,  which 
can  make  that  existence  a  blessing.  It  is  the  utter, 
the  everlasting  destruction  of  our  happiness,  and  the 
beginning  of  an  eternity  of  unmixed  misery.  O  what 
a  gloomy  end  to  his  journey,  for  a  weary  traveller  to 
re[!ch  !  what  a  wretched  home  ! 

But  have  we  reason  to  think  that  we  are  not  walk- 
ing in  this  broad  way  of  destruction  ?  Have  we  turned 
from  it  with  fear  and  tren^.bling,  and  are  we  journeying 
along  that  narrow  path,  which  leadeth  unto  life  ?  Then 
let  the  promise  in  the  text  animate  us,  and  excite  us  to 
diligence  in  our  Christian  course.  We  are  journeying 
to  the  place,  of  which  our  Lord  has  said,  "  1  will  give  it 
you."  The  way  may  be  narrow,  desolate,  and  dreary; 
our  difficulties  may  be  great,  and  our  weakness  still 
greater ;  but  if  we  lean  on  that  everlasting  arm  which 
is  'placed  underneath  us,  and  run  v/ith  patience  the  race 
that  is  set  before  us,  we  are  sure  of  heaven  at  the  tnd 
of  our  journey.  Neither  can  that  end  be  f.ir  distant.  A 
few  swiftly  flying  hours  will  soon  bring  us  to  it,  and 
then  we  have  only  to  pass  over  Jordan,  and  the  heavenly 
Canaan  will  be  curs.  Though  our  course  may  be  wea- 
risome, ye  shall  finish  it  with  joy.  As  the  ransomed  of 
the  Lord,  we  sh^ll  return  and  come  to  Zion  with  songs 
and  everlasting  joy  upon  our  heads.  We  shall  obtain  joy 
and  gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  for  ever  flee 
awav. 


SERMON  XIII. 


THE  CHRISTLiN  S  SONG  IN  HIS  PILGRIMAGE. 


PSALM  CXIX.   54. 

Thy  statutes  have  been  my  songs  in  the  hozise  ofmyfiUgrimage. 

J.  HE  author  of  these  words  appears  to  have  been  Da- 
vid. They  were  probably  written  towards  the  close  of 
his  life,  and  seem  to  have  been  drawn  from  him  by  a 
review  of  his  past  trials  and  mercies.  Happy  is  the 
man,  who  can  look  back  on  the  years  which  are  gone, 
and  take  this  declaration  as  his  own !  That  man's  sorrows 
will  soon  be  ended;  his  songs  of  joy  will  last  for  ever. 
He  may  be  an  afflicted,  weeping  pilgrim,  in  a  wilderness 
now  ;  but  he  will  be  a  rejoicing  inhabitant  of  a  para- 
dise soon. 

The  words  of  the  psalmist  naturally  suggest  to  us 
three  subjects  of  consideration;  the  light  in  which 
every  good  man  regards  the  world ;  the  cheerfulness, 
which  he  enjoys  as  he  passes  through  it ;  and  the  source, 
from  which  this  cheerfulness  is  derived. 

I.  The  light,  in  which  David  regarded  the  world, 
was  that  of  a  foreign  country,  through  which  he  was 
travelling  to  his  native  land.  He  speaks  of  it  as  the 
house  or  place  of  his  pilgrimage.  The  world  is  often 
represented  under  this  image  in  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
and  every  man,  who  is  a  Christian  indeed,  feels  the 
justness  of  this  representation.  It  comes  home  at  once 
to  his  heart,  and  he  wishes  always  to  cherish  the  feel- 

A  a 


186  The  Christian'' s  Song 

ings,  which  it  is  calculated  to  excite  within  him.  It  tells 
him  of  something,  which  he  loves  to  hear — his  small 
connection  with  this  world,  and  his  deep  interest  in 
another. 

1.  We  may  learn  from  this  representation  of  human 
life,  that  the  world  is  a  place^  which  the  Christian  has 
ceased  to  love.  He  once  loved  it.  Its  maxims  and  pur- 
suits, its  vanities  and  pleasures  were  suited  to  his  de- 
praved affections.  He  felt  himself  at  home,  in  a  house 
which  he  loved,  and  only  wished  that  he  could  dwell 
in  it  for  ever.  The  dream  however  is  ended.  The 
man  is  now  awake,  and  views  the  objects  around  him 
in  their  proper  colours.  A  great  moral  change  has  ta- 
ken place  within  him.  His  principles,  his  dispositions, 
and  his  affections,  have  undergone  a  radical  alteration. 
He  loves  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in 
the  world.  They  have  lost  their  charms.  Pleasures, 
amusements,  and  pursuits,  which  were  once  the  first 
objects  of  his  esteem,  are  now  sickening  to  his  soul. 

But  whence  lias  this  change  proceeded  ?  From  the 
disappointments  that  embitter,  and  from  the  calamities 
that  harass  the  life  of  man  ?  No  ;  these  indeed  he  feels, 
in  common  with  other  men  ;  but  these  things  have  no 
power  to  wean  the  soul  from  the  world.  They  have 
made  monks  and  hermits,  but  they  have  never  made 
one  Christian. 

2.  The  follower  of  Jesus  regards  the  world  as  a 
place,  which  cannot  make  him  happy.  The  reason 
why  he  has  ceased  to  love  it,  is  simply  this — it  is  not 
suited  to  his  taste  ;  it  cannot  provide  t!)e  food,  which 
his  renewed  soul  desires.  He  wants  the  bread  and  the 
water  of  life,  and  cannot  feed  on  the  husks,  which  the 
world  offers  him. 

The  taste  of  that  man,  my  brethren,  who  is  a  Ciiris- 


i?i  his  Pilgrimage.  187 

tian  indeed,  is  set  very  high.  He  has  desires  in  his 
heart,  which  reach  to  heaven,  and  which  nothing  short 
of  the  happiness  of  heaven  can  satisfy.  Even  in  this 
life,  he  must  be  made  happy,  in  just  the  same  way  as 
that,  in  which  the  angels  are  made  happy,  or  lie  is  a 
stranger  to  blessedness.  He  must  eat  of  the  same 
spiritual  bread  that  tiiey  eat  of,  and  drink  of  the  same 
cup  that  they  drink  of,  or  he  is  still  hungry  and  thirsty, 
and  his  soul  is  fainting  within  him.  He  is  born  from 
above,  and  he  wants  the  pleasures  of  his  native  land. 
The  world  can  satisfy  the  brutes  that  perish  ;  it  can 
satisfy  at  seasons  the  sensualist  and  the  lover  of  plea- 
sure ;  but  it  cannot  satisfy  the  Christian.  If  then  we 
profess  to  be  the  followers  of  Christ,  let  us  remember, 
not  only  that  we  must  not  seek  our  chief  happiness 
here,  but  that  we  cannot.  It  is  not  enough  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  world  ;  we  must  be  weaned  from  it, 
lose  our  love  of  it,  be  transformed  by  the  renewing  of 
cur  mind. 

3.  The  words  of  the  psalmist  teach  us,  thirdly,  that 
the  Christian  regards  the  world  as  a  place,  in  -which 
he  must  expect  to  meet  with  trials  and  difficulties-  A 
pilgrim  in  a  foreign  country  reckons  on  inconvenien- 
cies,  and  prepares  to  meet  them.  If  he  cannot  have 
things  altogether  to  his  mind,  he  submits.  If  he  is 
treated  with  neglect,  it  gives  him  not  inuch  con- 
cern. He  is  but  a  pilgrim  ;  and  he  looks  forward  to 
home  as  the  seat  of  his  comfort  and  the  place  of  his 
rest. 

Thus  also  the  Christian  expects  trials  in  the  house 
of  his  pilgrimage,  and  prepares  to  experiejice  them. 
He  makes  up  his  mind,  when  he  first  enters  the  narrow 
path  which  leads  to  God,  to  deny  himself  and  take  up 
his   cross.      Looking  on    the  world  as  a  sinful  and 


188  The  Christian's  Song 

fallen  world,  he  wonders  not  that  he  finds  it  a  scene 
of  suffering  and  misery  ;  and  he  citiims  no  exemption 
from  the  common  lot  of  man.  The  Bible  gives  him 
no  promise  of  worldly  ease  and  prosperity.  It  places 
his  paradise  in  scenes  beyond  the  grave,  and  plainly 
tells  him  that  he  must  through  much  tribulation  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

4.  We  miiy  observe,  further,  tliat  the  world  is  a 
phce,  -which,  the  Christian  expects  soon  to  leave.  It  is 
the  house  of  his  pilgrimage,  not  his  home.  He  not 
only  knows  that  he  must  die,  but  he  acts  consistently 
with  his  knowledge;  he  prepares  to  die.  He  endea- 
vours to  loosen  the  cords,  which  attach  him  to  the 
world,  and  to  be  ready  to  quit  it  at  a  moment's  warn- 
ing. Nay,  he  is  anxious  to  quit, it.  He  is  a  weary  pil- 
irrim,  who  longs  to  be  at  home.  How  often  does  his 
h^art  ache  for  rest,  and  sigh  for  the  peace  of  his  father's 
house  !  And  yet  he  travels  on  in  his  wearisome  jour- 
ney without  a  murmur.  He  is  indeed  heard  at  sea- 
sons to  breathe  a  wish  for  the  wings  of  a  dove,  that  he 
may  fly  away  and  be  at  rest ;  but,  the  next  moment, 
he  checks  the  impatient  prayer,  and  his  language  is, 
**  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  1  wait  till  my 
change  come." 

My  brethren,  are  these  feelings  ours  ?  Is  this  the 
light,  in  which  we  regard  the  world  ?  is  it  the  house 
of  our  pilgrimage  ?  Have  we  ceased  to  love  it,  and  to 
expect  happiness  from  it?  Do  we  look  on  it  as  a  place 
of  trial  and  difficult}  ?  Are  we  willing  to  leave  it,  that 
we  may  go  home  to  heaven  ?  if  we  are  Christians  in- 
deed, the  world  is  really  thus  crucified  unto  us,  and 
we  unto  the  world.  Though  living  in  it,  we  are  not 
of  it.  We  are  travelling  to  heaven,  and  so  travelling 
tliere,  as  to  make  the  world  see  that  we  regard  the 


in  his  Pilgrimage.  189 

earth  merely  as  our  dwelling-place  for  a  season  ;  that 
we  are  seeking  a  better  country  than  any,  which  occu- 
pies their  thoughts,  even  a  heavenly.  O  that  these  dis- 
positions abounded  in  all  our  hearts,  and  had  a  greater 
influence  on  our  conduct !  We  cannot  be  Christians 
without  them.  This  deadness  to  the  world  and  this 
heavenly- mindedness  are  not  merely  ornamental  gra- 
ces ;  they  are  absolutely  essential  to  the  Christian  cha- 
racter. Nothing  can  supply  the  want  of  them,  no  zeal 
for  the  truth,  no  form  of  godliness,  no  fancied  experi- 
ence  of  its  power.  And  yet  by  nature  we  are  utterly 
destitute  of  these  dispositions.  There  is  nothing 
spiritual  and  heavenly  in  us.  We  are  altogether  earthly 
and  sensual.  Heavenly- mindedness  is  as  much  the 
gift  of  God,  and  as  much  the  work  of  his  Holy  Spirit, 
as  regeneration,  repentance,  or  faith.  It  must  be  sought 
for  also  in  the  same  way.  If  we  would  possess  it,  we 
must  first  learn  to  feel  our  need  of  it,  and  earnestly  to 
desire  it;  lind  then  we  must  go  and  ask  for  it,  as  a  gift 
of  mercy,  at  a  throne  of  grace. 

II,  Let  us  now  go  on  to  our  second  subject  of  con- 
sideration, the  cheerfulness,  which  the  Christian  enjoys 
in  the  house  of  his  pilgrimage.  The  text  tells  us  that 
he  has  songs  in  it ;  *'  Thy  statutes  have  been  my  songs 
in  the  house  of  my  prilgrimage." 

It  has  been  supposed  that  there  is  an  allusion  in 
these  words  to  one  of  the  Jewish  customs.  We  arc 
informed  that  the  Israelites  repaired  three  times  in  the 
year,  from  the  extremities  of  their  country,  to  worship 
the  God  of  their  fathers  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  ; 
and  that  they  had  songs  composed  for  these  occasions, 
which  they  sung  at  certain  intervals  as  they  travelled 
along. 

Thus  the  Christian  pilgrim  is  represented  as  sing- 


190  TJie  Christian's  Sojig 

ing  in  his  pilgrimage,  as  journeying  on  to  Zion  with 
song.-i  and  everlasting  joy  upon  his  head.  It  may  in- 
deed seem  strange  that  such  a  pilgrim  in  such  a  world 
should  find  any  cause  for  joy,  yet  we  know  that  he 
does  at  seasons  go  on  his  way  rejoicing.  He  takes 
down  his  harp  from  the  willows  :  and,  even  in  this 
strange  land,  he  can  sometimes  sing  a  song  of  the 
sweetest  jo\',  and  gratitude,  and  love. 

1.  His  song  is,  first,  a  heart-fdt  song.  True  religion 
is  something  more,  than  a  round  of  ceremonies,  or  a 
cold  system  of  doctrines.  It  has  its  seat  in  the  heart, 
and  calls  into  exercise  all  the  affections  of  the  soul. 
Hence  the  Christian's  joy  is  a  deeply  seated  joy.  It 
is  not  a  smile  on  the  countenance,  whilst  sorrow  is 
striving  to  hide  itself  in  the  breast.  It  is  not  that  light- 
ness of  njind,  that  dissipation  of  thought,  to  which 
worldly  amusements  give  rise.  Neither  is  it  a  merely 
intellectual  gratification.  It  is  the  joy  of  the  mind  ;  the 
peace  of  the  soul  ;  a  joy,  which  can  live  in  retirement, 
and  which  flourishes  the  most,  when  it  is  removed  at 
the  greatest  distance  from  the  gaiety  of  the  world. 
Serious  reflection  dashes  to  pieces  the  worldling's 
happiness.  It  cannot  bear  the  secrecy  of  the  closet 
and  the  darkness  of  midnight.  But  the  Christian's 
God  gives  him  songs  in  the  night,  and  as  for  retire- 
ment, it  increases  his  blessedness.  He  loves  his  closet, 
and  is  sometimes  so  happy  there,  that  he  almost  forgets 
that  he  is  an  inhabitant  of  a  suffering  earth. 

"  But,"  it  may  be  asked,  "  is  not  this  joy  of  a  very 
suspicious  nature?  We  admit  that  some,  who  profess 
to  love  the  gospel,  seem  to  be  peculiarly  cheerful  and 
happy,  but  does  not  their  cheerfulness  proceed  from 
a  distempered  imagination,  from  heated  passions,  from 
delusive  fancies?  In  short,  is  it  not  the  effect  of  enthu- 


in  his  Pilgrimage.  191 

siasm,  rather  than  of  sober'  piety  ?"  If  enthusiasm,  my 
brethren,  can  make  a  man  holy  and  happy  in  a  world 
so  sinful  and  wretched  as  this,  it  would  be  well  for  us 
all,  if  we  were  this  very  hour  to  become  decided  en- 
thusiasts. But  the  Christian's  joy  is  not  an  enthusi- 
astic joy. 

2.  His  song  is  a  rationaly  as  well  as  a  heart-felt 
song.  He  has  really  cause  for  joy.  He  can  give  a  so- 
ber, rational  account  of  the  sources  of  his  happiness. 
He  can  tell  us  of  tiie  pardon  of  sin,  of  reconciliation 
with  God,  of  salvation  from  hell,  of  a  promise  of  hea- 
ven. If  the  poor  exile  is  allowed  to  exult,  when  he 
has  escaped  from  captivity  ;  if  the  condemned  criminal 
is  permitted  to  leap  for  joy,  when  he  receives  the  news 
of  a  reprieve  ;  why  do  we  require  the  perishing  sinner 
to  stand  unmoved,  when  he  hears  of  redemption  and 
a  pardon  ?  It  cannot  be.  Infidelity  and  ungodliness 
may  require  this  at  a  pardoned  sinner's  hands,  but  rea- 
son calls  upon  him  to  sing  aloud  with  joy  ;  to  be  zea- 
lously  affected  always  in  that  good  thing,  which  he 
has  chosen  as  his  portion  ;  to  *'  joy  in  God,  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  he  has  received  the 
atonement."  Reason  tells  him  that  the  religion,  which 
gets  into  a  man's  affections,  and  warms  his  heart,  and 
makes  him  habitually  happy,  is  the  only  rational  reli- 
gion, the  only  religion,  which  is  worth  contending  for 
or  seeking:.  While  she  calls  upon  the  atheist  and  the 
sceptic  to  indulge  gloominess,  perplexity,  and  fear  ; 
to  look  on  death  with  horror,  and  on  eternity  with  dis- 
may ;  she  says  to  the  humble,  praying,  belie\  ing 
church  of  Christ,  ^'  Ye  shall  go  out  with  joy,  and  be 
led  forth  with  peace  ;  the  mountains  and  the  hills  shall 
break  forth  before  you  into  singing,  and  all  the  trees 
of  the  field  shall  clap  their  hands." 


19S  The  Christian's  Song 

*'  But  of  what  nature,"  it  may  again  be  asked,  *'  is 
this  heart-felt,  rational  joy,  which  the  Christian  is  said 
to  feel  ?  We  see  those,  who  seem  to  possess  it,  ab- 
staining from  every  thing  likely  to  make  them  happy. 
They  condemn  and  avoid  whatever  is  cheerful,  and 
appear  to  welcome  every  thing,  that  is  wearisome  and 
gloomy.  As  for  those  innocent  and  rational  amuse- 
ments, which  constitute  the  chief  pleasures  of  life, 
they  appear  to  pour  contempt  on  them,  and  to  regard 
them  with  a  feeling  bordering  on  disgust."  But  here 
we  mistake  the  Christian's  character.  He  will  never 
be  found  to  despise  those  pleasures,  which  are  really 
innocent  and  rational.  He  is  as  much  attached  to 
them  as  other  men  ;  and  draws  from  them  a  much 
greater  degree  of  delight,  than  they  afford  to  others. 
But  then  he  can  never  think  those  amusements  ra- 
tional, which  are  adapted  solely  to  the  sensitive  part  of 
man,  and  many  of  which  a  brute  may  emoy  in  com- 
mon with  himself.  Neither  can  he  deem  those  plea- 
sures innocent,  which  directly  oppose  the  precepts  of 
his  Bible  and  his  God  ;  which  have  a  tendency  to  ex- 
cite those  affections  and  lusts,  that  he  has  been  com- 
manded to  crucify,  and  has  solemnly  promised  and 
vowed  to  renounce ;  which  are  accommodated  to  the 
pomps  and  vanities  of  this  wicked  world  ;  which  have 
been  applauded  by  all  the  foolish  and  wicked,  and  con- 
demned  by  all  the  wise  and  pious,  in  every  age  of  the 
church  ;  which  bring  him  into  the  society  of  the  most 
profane  and  vicious,  and.  separate  him  from  the  com- 
pany of  the  most  godly  and  virtuous  of  mankind  ; 
pleasures,  from  which  he  himself  would  tremble  to  be 
summoned  to  the  grave  and  the  judgment-seat  of  a 
holy  God. 

3.  As  for  the  nature  of  his  happiness,  we  may  ob- 


in  his  Pilgrimage.  193 

serve,  further,  that  the  Christian's  song  is  a  divine 
song.  The  joy,  which  fills  his  heart,  descends  from 
heaven,  and  comes  down  from  the  throne  of  God.  It 
has  its  origin  in  things  above  the  world,  and  is  but 
little  affected  by  the  changes  and  chances  of  this  mor- 
tal life.  Poverty  cannot  silence  the  song,  which  it 
pours  forth.  It  can  sing  the  praises  of  its  God  as 
loudly  and  as  sweetly  in  a  prison  and  at  midnight,  on 
a  bed  of  sickness,  and  in  the  hour  of  death,  as  in  the 
day  of  gladness  and  the  hour  of  health.  It  must  indeed 
seem  strange  and  mysterious  in  its  nature  to  the  mere 
man  of  the  world,  for  a  stranger  intermeddleth  not 
with  it.  He  has  no  capacity  for  receiving  it  or  com- 
prehending its  nature.  Even  if  he  were  taken  to  hea- 
ven, where  this  joy  fills  every  heart,  he  would  wonder 
at  the  happiness  around  him,  deem  himself  in  a  strange 
and  stupid  place,  and  v.'ish  again  for  the  vanities  and 
pleasures  of  the  world,  which  he  had  left. 

To  make  this  subject  plain  to  us,  let  us  take  our 
Bibles,  and  read  the  account,  which  is  there  given  us 
of  heaven.  After  seriously  contemplating  the  glowing  ^ 
descriptions  set  before  us,  let  us  ask  ourselves  what 
ideas  of  heaven  we  have  obtained.  We  think  it  a 
happy  place  perhaps,  because  we  read  that  there  will 
be  no  sorrow  there,  no  crying,  nor  pain  ;  but  this  is 
nearly  all  we  have  learned  of  it.  Were  we  to  be  asked 
in  what  the  positive  happiness  of  heaven  consists,  we 
should  find  a  difficulty  in  answering  the  question,  and 
perhaps  could  give  no  answer  whatever  to  it.  Now 
if  the  Bible  had  spoken  of  riches  and  honours  in  hea- 
ven, of  houses  and  lands,  of  vain  amusements  and  sen- 
sual delights,  of  the  song  and  the  dance,  of  festivity 
and  mirth ;  in  short,  if  the  Bible  had  exhibited  to  our 
view  a  iMahometan  paradise,  there  would  have   been 

B  b 


194  The  Christian'' s  Song 

something  tans^ible  in  the  description,  and  we  should 
have  been  able  to  form  some  conception  of  its  happi- 
ness. Apply  this  observation  to  the  subject  before 
us.  The  Christian  seems  to  be  destitute  of  joy  ;  and 
why  ?  Not  because  he  is  really  destitute  of  it,  but  be- 
cause his  joy  is  a  divine,  and  not  an  earthly  or  a  sen- 
sual joy.  It  is  a  joy  of  exactly  the  same  nature,  though 
inferior  in  degree,  to  that,  which  reigns  in  heaven  ; 
and  it  must  therefore  be  altogether  hidden  from  those, 
who  are  not  heavenly-minded. 

We  cannot  be  too  often  reminded,  that  true  religion 
makes  a  great  change  in  the  heart.  It  takes  from  it 
many  old  desires  and  affections,  and  implants  in  it 
many  new  ones.  It  opens  the  mind  to  receive  spiri- 
tual things  and  spiritual  enjoyments.  It  gives  it  a 
new  taste.  When  therefore  the  really  rtligious  man 
takes  his  Bible  in  his  hands,  and  reads  the  descrip- 
tions, which  the  Hc^ly  Spirit  has  there  given  him  of 
heaven,  he  sees  something  real  in  them,  something  in- 
finitely desirable.  He  understands  something  of  the 
meaning,  and  tastes  something  of  the  sweetness,  of  be- 
ing for  ever  with  the  Lord  ;  of  standing  before  the 
throne  of  the  Lamb  and  worshipping  him  day  and  night 
in  his  temple ;  of  seeing  him  as  he  is  ;  of  awaking  up 
in  his  likeness  and  being  satisfied  therewith. 

To  what  conclusion  then  does  this  bring  us  ?  It 
brings  us  to  this  conclusion,  that  if  we  have  no  joys 
but  those  which  the  world  affords  us,  if  we  have  no 
taste  for  spiritual  delights,  we  have  no  true  religion, 
no  connection  with  Christ,  no  meetness  for  heaven. 
O  brethren,  it  is  awful  not  to  find  religious  things  plea- 
sant things.  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  find  the  sabbath  a 
weariness,  the  worship  of  God  irksome,  the  sound  of 
the  gospel  joyless.     O  let  this  simple  and  oft  repeated 


in  his  Pilgrimage.  195 

truth  reach  every  ear,  and  sink  deeply  into  every  heart 
— there  is  no  plainer  mark  of  an  unrenewed,  unpar- 
doned soul,  than  a  love  of  the  vanities  of  this  present 
evil  world,  and  an  indifference  to  the  great  realities  of 
eternity. 

III.  "  But  how,"  it  may  be  asked,  "  is  this  heart- 
felt, rational,  and  heavenly  joy  communicated  to  the 
Christian's  soul?  Whence  does  he  derive  it?"  The 
text  answers  this  enquiry,  and  reminds  us  of  our  third 
subject  of  consideration,  the  source  of  the  Christian's 

joy- 

"  Thy  statutes,"  says  David,  "  have  been  my  songs 
in  the  house  of  my  pilgrimage.  I  have  found  thy  sta- 
tutes to  be  right,  rejoicing  the  heart.  The  precepts  and 
promises  of  thy  word  have  been  the  source  of  my  bless- 
edness, and  the  theme  of  my  song.'* 

Here  however  it  must  be  observed,  that  the  holy 
Scriptures  have  no  power  in  themselves  to  make  the 
Christian  pilgrim  happy.  Thousands  read  and  hear 
them  without  deriving,  or  expecting  to  derive,  happi- 
ness from  them.  To  the  Holy  bpirit  all  the  j.^y  of  the 
Christian  must  be  traced  as  itsauihor,  but  one  of  the 
principal  means,  which  he  makes  use  of  to  communi- 
cate this  gift,  is  the  word  of  God. 

1.  The  Bible  rejoices  the  Christian's  heart  by  tell- 
ing him,  first,  that  though  a  pilgrim  in  a  foreign  land, 
he  shall  have  all  his  wants  supplied.  He  finds  in  this 
blessed  book  the  sweetest  promises  of  all  he  can  need 
or  wish  for  in  his  journey.  Wearied  and  dispirited 
by  its  toils  and  difficulties,  he  reads  here  that  he  is  not 
alone  in  the  world  ;  that  his  heavenly  Father  is  with 
him;  that  his  Saviour  is  bearing  apart  of  his  trials 
and  sharing  all  his  sorrows  ;  that  the  angels  of  heaven 
are  commissioned  to  watch  over  him,  and  to  keep  him 


196  The  Christian's  Song 

in  all  his  ways.  With  these  assurances  he  is  satisfied, 
yea,  he  is  refreshed,  comforted,  and  enlivened.  Hb 
goes  on  his  way  with  joy  in  his  heart,  and  this  song  in 
his  mouth  ;  '^  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd  ;  I  shall  not 
want.  He  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures : 
he  ieadeth  me  beside  the  still  waters.  He  restoreth  my 
soul ;  he  Ieadeth  me  in  the  paths  of  righteousness  for 
his  names'  sake.  Surely  goodness  and  mercy  shall 
follow  me  all  the  days  of  my  life,  and  1  will  dwell  in 
the  house  of  the  Lord  for  ever." 

2.  The  Bible  brings  joy  to  a  Christian's  heart  by 
reminding  him  of  the  end  of  his  pilgrimage^  even  his 
home,  and  that  a  peaceful,  a  glorious,  a  heavenly  home. 
How  sweet  is  the  thought  of  home  to  the  traveller, 
who  has  been  long  absent  from  it !  How  does  the  hope 
of  again  beholding  it  and  its  beloved  inhabitants  sup- 
port him  in  his  journey,  and  enable  him,  though  wea- 
ried, to  travel  on  with  cheerfulness  !  With  such  a 
prospect  as  this,  the  Bible  supports  and  chi^ers  the 
Christian  traveller.  He  learns  from  it  that  heaven  is 
not  a  fable ;  that  there  is  something  real  beyond  the 
grave  ;  that  there  is  a  mansion  prepared  for  him,  yea, 
a  throne  and  a  crown  awaiting  him  in  the  realms  of 
eternity.  He  is  told  too  that  he  shall  soon  take  a  last 
farewell  of  this  strange  land,  with  all  its  cares,  and 
sins,  and  sorrows  ;  that  he  shall  see  face  to  face  that 
Saviour,  whom  his  soul  loveth ;  press  to  his  heart  the 
fellow  pilgrims,  whom  he  has  parted  with  on  earth  ; 
join  the  great  company  of  ransomed,  purified,  and  re- 
joicing saints,  and  have  robes  white  as  their^s,  and  palms 
as  green.  Who  then  does  not  love  the  Bible,  that  can 
read  in  it  of  such  a  home  as  this,  and  look  forward  to 
it  as  his  own  ? 

3.  But  the  Scriptures  not  only  tell  the  Christian  of 


171  his  Pilgrimage.  197 

this  heavenly  home  ;  they  cheer  his  heart  by  pointing 
out  to  him  the  xvay  which  leads  to  it.  The  word  of 
God  is  a  lamp  unto  his  feet,  and  a  light  unto  his  paths. 
He  feels  that  he  is  very  ignorant  and  needs  a  guide, 
and  he  finds  in  the  Bible  just  such  a  guide  as  he  needs, 
one,  that  is  designed  for  the  ignorant  and  able  to  make 
wise  the  simple.  He  takes  it  therefore  as  his  map 
through  the  wilderness  of  the  world,  as  his  chart  across 
the  troubled  sea  of  life. 

4.  The  same  Scriptures  too,  that  tell  the  Christian 
of  his  home,  and  point  out  to  him  the  way  that  leads 
to  it,  give  him  the  assurance  that  he  shall  soon  be  there. 
They  remind  him  of  the  love,  the  power,  and  the  faith- 
fulness of  him,  who  has  said,  "  My  sheep  shall  never 
perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out  of  my 
hand."  They  assure  him,  that  if  only  he  will  lean  sim- 
ply on  the  almighty  arm  of  Christ,  he  shall  hold  on 
his  way,  and  grow  stronger  and  stronger  as  he  advan- 
ces in  his  course.  In  the  midst  of  his  weakness  and 
fears,  they  tell  him  of  a  multitude  of  pilgrims,  who 
were  once  travelling  the  same  path,  in  which  he  is 
treading,  and  travelling  it  too  with  the  same  trials  and 
fears,  but  who  are  now  walking  the  streets  of  the  new 
Jerusalem,  and  rejoicing  in  its  glorious  temple.  The 
Bible  is  not  leading  him  through  an  untrodden  path. 
It  says  to  him,  "  Be  followers  of  them,  who  through 
faith  and  patience  inherit  the  promises.  Take  the  pro- 
phets, who  have  spoken  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  for 
an  example  of  suffering  affliction  and  of  patience.  Con- 
sider him  that  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners 
against  himself,  lest  ye  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your 
minds." 

The  subject,  which  we  have  thus  briefly  considered, 
shews,  us,  first,  the  reason,  why  so  many  professors  of 


198  The  Christiaii's  Song 

Christianity  are  habitually  gloomy  and  comfortless. 
They  do  not  love  the  Bible ;  they  do  not  seek  their 
happiness  in  it.  There  is  a  well  of  consolation  near 
them,  but  they  turn  away  from  it.  They  seek  happi- 
ness in  themselves,  and  forget  to  seek  it  in  their  Bible, 
and  their  God.  The  only  way  to  be  happy,  my  bre- 
thren, in  such  a  world  as  this,  is  to  have  the  Bible  often 
in  our  hands,  and  still  oftener  in  our  hearts  ;  to  medi- 
tate upon  it;  to  understand  what  David  means,  when 
he  says,  "  O  how  1  love  thy  law  !  it  is  my  meditation 
all  the  day.  I  will  meditate  on  thy  precepts,  and  have 
respect  unto  thy  ways.  1  will  delight  myself  in  thy 
statutes,  I  will  not  forget  thy  word." 

The  text  calls  upon  us  also  highly  to  value  the  sa- 
cred Scriptures,  to  esteem  them  more  precious  than 
gold,  yea,  than  much  fine  gold,  sweeter  also  than  honey 
and  the  honey-comb.  If  David  and  Job,  who  had  but 
a  very  small  portion  of  the  word  of  God,  esteemed  it 
more  than  their  necessary  food,  and  took  it  as  their 
heritage  for  ever  ;  if  these  ancient  saints  so  highly 
valued  this  precious  book  and  so  much  rejoiced  in  it, 
how  ought  we  to  prize  it,  who  have  it  enriched  with 
the  clear,  the  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises 
of  the  prophets,  of  the  evangelists  and  apostles,  and  of 
Christ  himself!  Surely  we  should  bind  it  about  our 
neck,  and  write  it  upon  the  table  of  our  heart. 

We  are  reminded  also  in  the  text  of  the  extent^  to 
which  we  should  endeavour  to  circulate  the  Scriptures. 
They  are  designed  to  bring  comfort  to  the  sorrowful 
and  peace  to  the  wretched.  V\'here\cr  therefore  sor- 
row and  wretchedness  are  found,  thtre  the  Bible  is 
wanted,  and  there  it  is  our  duty,  if  poj^sible,  to  send  it. 
Wherever  a  sigh  is  heaved  or  a  tear  shed  in  the  habi- 
tation of  misery,  there  we  are  called  on  to  send  the  word 
of  consoiulion  and  the  gospel  of  peace. 


in  his  Pilgrimage.  199 

We  may  infer,  lastly,  from  the  subject,  on  which 
we  have  been  meditating,  that  the  spirit,  which  becomes 
the  Christian  pilgrim.,  is  a  cheerful  and  rejoicing  spirit. 
Let  the  infidel  and  the  ungodly  man  be  gloomy  and 
wretched;  but  let  not  that  man  be  cheerless,  who  has 
the  Bible  for  his  comforter,  Christ  for  his  Saviour,  God 
for  his  Father,  and  heaven  for  his  home.  Let  the  hum- 
ble and  praying  Christian  examine  the  book,  which 
contains  the  charter  of  his  privileges  ;  let  him  turn  over 
its  leaves,  and  not  a  word  of  sorrow  can  he  find  ad- 
dressed to  him  throughout  its  sacred  pages.  Pardon 
and  peace,  hope  and  joy,  comfort  in  death  and  triumph 
in  eternity — these  are  the  blessings  it  pours- into  his 
bosom  and  tells  him  to  call  his  own.  It  is  true  that 
it  reminds  him  that  he  is  a  pilgrim  on  the  earth,  and 
teaches  him  to  cherish  within  his  breast  the  remem- 
brance of  this  fact ;  to  let  it  moderate  his  desires  after 
earthly  things,  wean  him  from  the  world,  and  enable 
him  to  bear  with  fortitude  his  sorrows  and  his  trials  : 
but  then  it  tells  him  also. that  the  sufferings  of  this 
present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the; 
glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us  ;  that,  though 
we  may  receive  the  word  in  much  affliction,  we  should 
receive  it  also  with  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Bible 
makes  spiritual  joy  our  duty,  as  well  as  our  privilege. 
It  calls  upon  us  to  serve  the  Lord  with  gladness,  and 
come  before  his  presence  with  a  song  ;  to  let  the  world 
see  that  we  have  found  that  peace  of  mind  in  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ,  which  they  cannot  find  in  vanity  and  sin; 
that  there  is  something  real  in  religion,  something  which 
can  enable  a  man  to  spurn  the  pleasures  of  time  and 
sense,  and  to  rejoice  in  a  crucified  Jesus  with  joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory. 


SERMON  XIV. 


THE  BREVITY  AND  V^VNITY  OF  HUMAN  LIFE, 


PSALM  XXXiX.   5. 

Behold,  thou  hast  made  my  days  as  a  hand-breadth,  and  mine  age  is  ait 
nothiJig  before  thee ;  verily ^every  man,  at  his  best  state,  is  altogether 
vanitt(. 


I  HESE  simple  words,  my  brethren,  have  an  energy 
in  them,  which  none  but  a  dying  man  can  fully  un- 
derstand. We  mav  indeed  have  felt  somethins:  of  their 
meaning,  as  we  have  heard  them  read  over  the  corpse 
of  a  beloved  friend,  but  then  this  feeling  has  been 
neither  deep  nor  lasting.  We  have  heard  the  death- 
bell  toll,  we  have  followed  the  ashes  of  a  fellow  mortal  *' 
to  the  tomb,  and  we  have  perhaps  breathed  a  sigh  or 
shed  a  tear  to  human  vanity  ;  but  we  have  not  long 
retained  the  impression,  to  which  the  mournful  scene 
has  given  rise.  The  cares  or  pleasures  of  the  world 
have  again  called  for  our  whole  attention,  and  we  have 
again  given  it  them.  In  one  short  day  perhaps  we  have 
forgotten  that  man  is  mortal  and  that  his  life  is  vanity. 
We  have  forgotten  that  the  words  we' have  heard  read 
over  our  departed  friend,  must  soon  be  read  over  our 
own  cold  remains;  that  the  same  death-bell  will  shortly 
toll* for  us;  that  our  poor  bodies  must  soon  be  the 
tenants  of  a  grave  as  silent  and  as  dark  as  his. 

Ill  compassion  however  to  our  thoughtless  hearts, 
the  Almighty  sometimes  steps  out  of  the  track  of  his 
ordinary  dealmgs  with  mauKind,  and  forces  these  truths 


The  Brevity  and  Vanity^  &c.  sot 

upon  our  recollection.  By  some  sudden  and  awful 
stroke,  he  makes  his  providence  preach  them  to  us  in 
a  voice  so  loud,  that  all  must  hear  it,  and  so  plain,  that 
all  must  understand  it. 

Such  a  blow  has  been  lately  struck  within  our  own 
borders.*  That  dark  and  mysterious  Providence,  which 
the  mind  neither  of  men  nor  of  angels  can  penetrate, 
has  sent  death  in  one  of  its  most  affecting  forms  into 
one  of  our  palaces ;  and  now  calls  upon  a  whole  nation 
to  look  on,  and  remember  that  man,  even  in  '^  his  best 
state,  is  altogether  vanity." 

The  sad  particulars  of  this  solemn  event  are  familiar 
to  us  all.  They  have  fastened  themselves  on  all  our 
minds,  and  have  deeply  affected  all  our  hearts.  Of  its 
consequences  to  our  country  we  know  nothing.  They 
are  all  hidden  behind  the  veil  of  futurity,  and  no  hu- 
man sagacity  can  foresee  them.  There  may  indeed 
be  mercy  in  the  afflictive  dispensation,  but  as  far  as  our 
feeble  eyes  can  reach,  we  see  nothing  but  judgment 
for  England  in  the  stroke.  O  how  loudly  does  it  call 
upon  every  inhabitant  of  this  sinful  land  to  humble 
himself  before  the  Lord,  and  •'  to  turn  to  him  in  weep- 
ing, fasting,  and  in  praying!" 

It  is  not  however  my  wish  to  recal  your  attention  to 
the  political  consequences  of  this  event.  Neither  will 
1  pain  your  feelings  by  attempting  any  panegyric  on 
her,  vv^ho  has  been  made  the  subject  of  this  mysterious 
providence.  She  is  now  removed  far  beyond  the  reach 
of  any  praise  of  ours  ;  or  if  her  departed  spirit  is  still 
permitted  to  hover  over  the  country  that  she  loved,  she 
will  find  a  panegyric,  stronger  than  words  can  give,  in 


*  This  sermon  was  preached  on  November  19,  1817,  being  the  day,  on  wliich 
the  lamented  Princess  Cjuulotte  of  Wales  was  interred. 

Co 


203  The  Brevity  and  Vanitij 

the  throbbing  hearts  and  streaming  eyes  of  a  mourning 
land.  Instead  of  dwelling  on  that  conjugal  affection 
and  filial  piety,  that  train  ot  virtues,  whicli  graced  her 
character  and  endeared  her  to  our  hearts,  let  us  rather 
strive  to  see  our  own  nearness  to  that  world,  whither 
she  is  gone.  Let  us  view  this  solemn  visitation  as 
dying  men.  It  addresses  us  in  this  character,  and 
speaks  to  us  a  language,  which  affects  not  a  nation  only, 
but  a  world  ;  not  time  only,  but  eternity.  O  may  the 
Spirit  of  God  send  its  sacred  lessoiis  home  to  every 
heart!  May  he  lodge  this  solemn  truth,  in  all  its  ener- 
gy, within  our  souls ;  *'  Behold  thou  hast  made  my 
days  as  a  hand-breadth,  and  mine  age  is  as  nothing 
before  thee  ;  verily,  every  man,  at  his  best  state,  is 
altogether  vanity  !" 

The  psalmist's  words  lead  us  to  consider,  j^rjf,  the 
reasons,  why  the  fleeting  days  of  life  are  called  our  days  ; 
secondly,  the  shortness  of  these  days  ;  and,  thirdly,  their 
vanity. 

I.  Why  then  does  the  psalmist  call  the  days  of  life 
our  days  ? 

1.  There  is  not  one  of  them,  which  we  can  strictly 
call  our  own.  The  stream  of  time  keeps  rolling  on, 
and  not  the  smallest  portion  of  it  can  we  hold  within 
our  grasp.  But  still  the  fleeting  days  of  life  may  be 
called  our  days,  because  they  bring  to  us  innumerable 
mercies  as  they  hurry  on.  We  cannot  stop  them,  but 
there  is  not  one  of  them,  that  is  not  commissioned  to 
drop  many  mercies  on  our  heads  as  it  passes  over  us, 
mercies  for  our  bodies,  mercies  for  our  families,  mer- 
cies for  our  country,  mercies  for  our  souls. 

2.  These  days  too  may  be  called  our  days,  because 
they  are  days  in  which  we  are  allowed  to  work  for 
eternity.     We  shall  live  for  eycr^  but  we  shall  not  for 


of  Human  Life.  %oz 

ever  have  the  power  of  benefitting  or  injuring  our  souls. 
Ihcre  is  no  "  soul  work"  be)ond  the  grave.  There 
is  no  work  of  conversion,  no  work  of  salvation,  in 
eternity.  There  are  no  means  of  grace  in  that  unknown 
world,  no  Bible,  no  ministers,  no  renewing  Spirit,  no 
inviting  Saviour,  no  saving  cross.  All  our  work  must 
be  done  before  we  come  to  the  grave,  or  all  beyond  it 
is  one  never  ending  ''  night,  in  which  no  man  can 
work."  All,  that  a  poor  sinner  can  do  for  his  immortal 
soul,  must  be  done  in  that  short  span  of  time,  which 
intervenes  between  the  cradle  and  the  grave. 

3.  The  days  of  our  life  may  be  called  our  day^s 
because  they  are  clays,  for  which  ive  must  hereafter 
give  an  account.  We  have  no  real  property  in  their 
hastening  hours.  Tliey  are  one  after  another  lent  to 
us  to  be  returned  again.  They  are  lent  to  us  to  be 
employed  for  their  master's  use,  *'  Take  this,"  says 
he  with  every  hour  that  he  gives  us,  •'  and  occupy  till 
I  come."  Every  moment,  that  fills  up  the  measure  of 
our  time,  comes  to  us  like  a  messenger  from  another 
world,  marks  our  conduct,  and  then  hastens  back  with 
its  report  to  the  throne  of  God.  Before  that  throne, 
brethren,  is  an  ever  open  volume,  in  which  all  our  sad 
abuse  of  time  is  recorded.  Every  sinful  act  of  our 
lives,  is  written  there,  every  hasty  word,  and  every 
unholy  thought.  Thousands  of  sins,  which  we  have 
long  forgotten  or  never  thought  of,  are  slill  as  fresh  in 
that  awful  record,  as  at  the  very  moment  when  they 
were  committed.  They  are  all  waiting  there  to  meet 
us  again  at  the  bar  of  God.  Where  then  is  the  man 
among  us,  who  can  seriously  think  of  such  a  book  as 
this,  and  feel  no  searchings  of  heart  at  the  thought  ?  O 
if  we  could  but  be  allowed  to  take  one  glance  at  one 
page  of  this  crowded  book,  with  what  trembling  haste 


SO-t  The  Brevity  and  Vanity 

should  we  fly  to  a  dying  Saviour,  and  cling  to  his  cross! 
The  record  of  his  sins,  for  only  one  day,  would  be 
enough  to  fill  the  heart  of  the  most  careless  among  us 
with  fear  and  trembling  for  his  whole  life. 

II.  Let  us  proceed  to  consider,  secondly,  the  short- 
ness of  these  days,  which  the  psalmist  calls  our  own. 
"  Behold,  thou  hast  made  my  days  as  a  hand-breadth, 
and  mine  age  is  as  nothing  before  thee." 

We  all  know  that  when  we  speak  of  the  shortness  of 
any  thing,  there  is  always  implied  in  the  term  a  compa- 
rison with  something  else  of  longer  duration. 

1.  Hence  we  may  observe,  first,  that  our  days  are 
short,  when  compared  with  the  period  once  allotted  to 
the  life  of  man.  Immediate  death  was  the  sentence  de- 
nounced against  the  sin  of  our  first  parents.  "  In  the 
day,  that  thou  eatest  thereof,"  said  the  Lord,  *'  thou 
shalt  surely  die  ;"  but  the  patience  of  God  lingered  nine 
hundred  years  before  he  demanded  of  the  first  criminals 
their  forfeited  lives.  Their  immediate  successors  too, 
enjoyed  for  the  greater  part,  nearly  as  long  a  respite. 
We  count  our  years  at  the  most  by  scores, .but  the 
men  before  the  flood,  reckoned  their's  by  centuries.  At 
an  age  when  we  are  sinking  into  the  grave,  they  were 
but  just  entering  upon  life.  Their  glass  generally  ran 
on  for  nearly  a  thousand  years,  while  "  the  days  of  our 
age  are  three  score  years  and  ten  ;  and  though  men  be 
so  strong,  that  they  come  to  four  score  years,  yet  is 
their  strength  then  but  labour  and  sorrow ;  so  soon 
passeth  it  away,  and  we  are  gone." 

2.  Our  life  too  seems  short,  when  compared  with  the 
duration  of  many  objects  around  us.  The  same  sun,  that 
now  shines  upon  us,  shone  more  than  five  thousand 
years  ago  upon  our  fathers.  The  moon,  that  enlivens 
our  nights,  has  seen  nearly  two  hundred  generations  of 


of  Human  Life.  205 

men  rise  and  fall.  Even  the  works  of  our  own  hands 
remain  much  longer  than  we.  The  pyramids  of  Egypt 
have  defied  the  attacks  of  three  thousand  years,  while 
their  builders  sunk  perhaps  under  the  burden  of  four 
score.  Our  houses  stand  long  after  their  transient  pro- 
prietors are  gone,  and  their  names  forgotten.  Where  is 
now  the  head  that  planned,  and  the  hands  which  built 
this  house  of  God?  They  Avere  all  reduced  to  ashes 
five  hundred  years  ago.  The  very  seats  we  sit  on  have 
borne  generations  before  they  bore  us,  and  will  proba- 
bly bear  many  after  us.  The  remains  of  those,  who 
once  occupied  the  places  we  now  fill,  are  underneath 
our  feet,  and  we  must  soon  join  them  in  their  vaults  to 
make  room  for  other  generations.  Before  another  cen- 
tury has  begun  its  course,  these  walls  will  resound  with 
other  voices,  other  feet  will  tread  these  courts,  and  an- 
other race  of  men  will  say  of  us,  "  Our  fathers ;  where 
are  they  ?" 

3.  How  striking  too  does  the  shortness  of  life  ap- 
pear,  when  compared  with  the  eternity  of  God!  ''  Mine 
age  is  as  nothing  before  thee,"  says  the  psalmist ;  no- 
thing in  comparison  of  thee.  The  existence  of  the  Al- 
mighty never  had  a  beginning,  and  can  never  have  an 
end.  "From  everlasting  to  everlasting  he  is  God." 
Compared  with  the  eternity  which  he  inhabits,  the 
longest  life  shrinks  into  a  mere  point,  a  nothing.  Indeed 
no  duration  of  time,  however  long,  will  bear  the  com- 
parison. Thousands  and  millions  of  years  are  no  more 
here,  than  a  day  or  an  hour.  If  we  take  as  many  years 
as  there  are  grains  of  sand  upon  the  sea  shore,  and  as 
many  more  as  there  are  particles  of  dust  in  this  huge  globe 
of  earth,  and  bring  into  one  reckoning  all  these  multi- 
tudes of  years,  the  mighty  sum  bears  no  more  propor- 
tion to  eternity,  than  a  moment,  a  twinkling  of  an  eye 


206  Tlie  Brevity  and  Vanity 

bears  to  ten  thousand  ages.  Such  a  calculation  con- 
founds the  mind  by  its  immensity  ;  but  the  whole 
amount  would  be  a  mere  point,  yea,  less  than  a  point, 
in  the  reckoning  of  eternity. 

4.  We  may  see  something  also  of  the  brevity  of  life, 
if  we  compare  it,  lastly,  xvith  the  work  we  have  to  do» 
The  eternity,  which  we  have  just  been  speaking  of,  is 
our  own.  When  God  gave  us  life,  he  made  us  heirs 
of  it.  The  injmense  inheritance  has  been  entailed  upon 
every  one  of  us,  and  we  must  spend  it  either  in  the 
height  of  happiness,  or  in  the  depth  of  misery.  Now 
the  present  life  is  given  us  to  lay  up  a  treasure  for  this 
eternity ;  to  work  out,  by  the  power  of  divine  grace,  a 
salvation,  which  shall  stretch  itself  through  its  countless 
ages.  Great  as  this  work  is,  multitudes  of  the  human 
race  have  performed  it.  They  have  been  strengthened 
by  Christ,  and,  though  utterly  helpless  in  themselves, 
they  have  now  obtained  a  treasure  in  eternity,  with 
which  the  collected  riches  of  a  world  cannot  for  one 
moment  be  compared.  We  ourselves  also  must  work 
out  this  great  salvation,  and  work  it  out  too  in  this 
short  life,  or  live  for  ever  in  hopeless  misery. 

Viewed  in  this  solemn  light,  as  the  only  season  of 
preparation  for  eternity,  to  what  a  fearful  importance 
does  time  at  once  rise !  How  ought  we  to  value  its 
fleeting  hours!  Its  shortness  makes  it  infinitely  pre- 
cious. Tell  a  man  that  he  has  only  a  day  to  labour  in 
order  to  secure  food,  and  ease,  and  happiness,  for  a 
hundred  years,  and  mark  how  that  man  will  prize  eVery 
moment  of  that  short  day  !  how  intent  he  will  be  upon 
his  work ;  hov/  dead  to  every  other  object !  Invite  him, 
under  such  circumstances,  to  the  song  and  the  dance  ; 
call  him  to  scenes  of  revelry  and  dissipation  ;  offer  him 
the  richest  baubles  the  world  can  give .:  and  the  man 


of  Human  Life,  207 

will  spurn  them  from  him;  all  the  haunts  and  pursuits 
of  vanity  will  be  sickening  lo  his  soul.  How  is  it  then, 
brethren,  that  we,  who  have  but  a  few  short  days  to 
live,  and  to  prepare  for  eterniiy,  can  be  so  idle  and  so 
easy  ?  How  is  it  that  we  have  so  much  time  to  spare 
for  the  world,  for  vanity,  and  for  sin  ? 

This  view  of  life  shews  us  too  the  vast  importance 
of  every  thing  we  say  and  do  in  it.  All  our  words  and 
actions  are  connected  with  eternity  by  a  chain,  which 
never  can  be  broken.  We  shall  hear  of  every  one  of 
Them  again  in  an  eternal  world.  They  are  seeds  planted 
in  heaven  or  in  hell,  and  are  producing  for  us  there, 
this  very  hour,  either  the  sweetest  or  the  deadliest 
fruits. 

if  we  thus  compare  human  life  with  the  period  once 
allotted  to  it,  with  the  long  duration  of  many  objects 
around  us,  with  the  eternity  of  God,  and  the  all  impor- 
tant work  of  laying  up  in  Christ  a  treasure  for  eternity, 
we  shall  be  constrained  to  acknowledge,  that  the  psal- 
mist's complaint  is  not  an  unmeaning  one ;  that  our 
days  are  indeed  as  a  hand-breadth  and  our  age  as 
nothing. 

Observe  too  that  in  making  this  comparison,  we 
have  given  to  life  its  longest  duration.  We  have  said 
nothing  of  the  countless  thousands  of  the  human  race, 
who  are  daily  cut  down  in  the  maturity  of  manhood 
and  the  bloom  of  youth.  One  half  at  least  of  those, 
who  enter  this  world  of  death,  are  called  out  of  it  be- 
fore they  have  seen  seven  of  its  years.  We  have  said 
nothing  of  the  stroke,  which  can  reach  the  infant  before 
it  sees  the  light,  and  lay  the  mother  in  the  dust,  though 
shielded  by  health,  and  strength,  and  youth.  Neither 
have  we  said  any  thing  of  the  time,  that  is  consumed  in 
sleep,  and  in  procuring  the  supplies  necessary  for  our 


208  The  Brevity  and  Vanity 

existence.  Many  hours  of  all  our  nights  are  hours  of 
oblivion,  and  many  of  our  days  are  days  of  nothingness. 
Take  these  from  human  life,  and  how  poor  a  pittance 
is  there  left!  If  however  we  pass  over  all  these  things 
in  silence,  and  give  to  life  all  the  hours  and  advantages 
it  can  lay  claim  to,  the  conclusion  is  the  same  ;  it  is 
"  a  shadow  that  departelh;  a  flower,  that  in  the  morning 
is  green  and  grovveth  up,  and  in  the  evening  is  cut 
down,  dried  up,  and  withered  ;  it  is  a  vapour,  that  ap- 
peareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth  away." 

Plain  as  this  truth  appears,  it  is  by  no  means  easy  to 
get  it  permanently  lodged  in  our  minds.  We  acknow- 
ledi^e  the  shortness  of  life,  and  yet,  when  we  look  for- 
ward to  years  to  come,  our  feelings  strangely  belie  our 
words,  and  life  seems  to  stretch  itself  out  a  long  ex- 
tended line.  But  what  do  we  know,  brethren,  of  the 
years  that  are  to  come  ?  We  must  go  for  an  estimate 
of  life  to  the  years  that  are  past.  We  know  something 
of  them  from  experience.  What  then  is  their  language  ? 
Ask  the  man  who  is  bending  under  the  weight  of  four 
score  years.  He  will  tell  us,  that  the  days  of  the  years 
of  his  pilgrimage  have  been  few  and  evil;  that  his 
lengthened  life  appears  to  him  only  as  a  tale  that  is  told. 

Mark  too  the  silence,  with  which  the  few  years  al- 
lotted to  us  pass  away.  They  make  no  noise  as  they 
roll  over  our  heads.  The  stream  of  time  flows  on  with 
the  profoundest  silence.  It  passes  by  us,  and  we  see  it 
not.  All  that  we  know  is,  that  it  has  passed  us ;  and 
we  can  only  wonder  that  it  should  be  so  soon  gone.  If  we 
look  back  to  that  part  of  our  life,  which  has  already  run 
its  course,  we  can  retrace  but  very  little  of  it ;  we  re- 
member it  only  as  we  remember  a  dream.  It  is  full  of 
confused  images  which  we  cannot  distinctly  recollect, 
and  which  serve  only  to  perplex  and  bewilder  the  mind. 


of  Human  Life.  209 

And  yet  the  events  of  these  years,  which  we  now  so 
indistinctly  remember,  once  called  into  exercise  all  the 
energies  of  our  minds  ;  some  of  them  filled  us  with  de- 
light, and  some  harassed  us  with  vexation  and  grief. 
All  hou  ever  from  our  cradle  to  the  present  hour,  seems 
now  but  little  better  than  one  humiliating  blank:  and 
just  the  same,  a  few  months  hence,  will  the  present 
time  appear  to  us,  crowded  as  it  now  is  with  pleasures, 
and  cares,  and  fears. 

There  is  another  painful  thought  too  connected  with 
the  silent  rapidity  of  time.  The  longer  we  stay  in  the 
world,  the  swifter  does  its  flight  appear.  A  year  to  a 
man  is  not  more  than  six  months  to  a  child.  Our  days 
seem  to  rush  on  with  a  more  silent  and  rapid  motion, 
the  ne'lirer  they  draw  to  the  goal  of  death,  as  though 
they  were  eager  to  bear  us  away  to  our  destined  eter- 
nity. The  f^ict  is,  that  time,  correctly  speaking,  is  no- 
thing more  than  a  succession  of  ideas ;  these  ideas  are 
less  numerous,  and  the  impressions  they  make  on  the 
mind  less  deep  and  permanent  in  old  age,  than  they  are 
in  youth  ;  and  consequently  the  road  of  life  has  fewer 
stones  to  mark  our  progress  along  it. 

111.  But  here  perhaps  it  may  be  said,  "  What,  if  the 
period  of  life  be  thus  transitory  ?  Man  is  a  great  and 
noble  being,  and  has  powers  that  enable  him  to  crowd 
into  this  short  existence,  a  consequence  and  a  dignity, 
suited  to  his  greatness."  The  words  before  us  however, 
speak  no  such  language  as  this  There  is  another  hu- 
miliating truth  in  them.,  which  pours  contempt  on  all 
human  greatness.  They  tell  us,  not  only  of  the  short- 
ness of  life,  but  of  the  vanity,  the  utter  nothingness  of 
man.  This  is  the  testimony  they  give  ;  "  Verily,  every 
man,  at  his  best  state,  is  altogether  vanity." 

And  is  the  Bible  the  oJilv  teacher  of  this  humiliatini*: 

y  iff 

Dd 


%t 


210  Tlie  Brevity  and  Vanity 

truth?  No.  The  events  of  every  day,  the  observation 
and  experience  of  almost  every  hour,  speak  the  same 
language.  With  what  a  mighty  voice,  my  brethren,  is 
the  solemn  truth  now  sounded  in  the  ears  of  every  in- 
habitant of  this  land  !  There  is  a  tomb  opened  to-day, 
that  sends  it  home  to  our  very  hearts. 

1.  If  we  would  see  something  of  the  nothingness  of 
man,  we  have  only  to  remember  the  precariousness  and 
little  worth  of  all  the  earthly  blessings  we  call  our  own. 
There  is  not  one  of  them,  which  we  can  be  sure  of  re- 
taining even  for  an  hour.  Have  we  a  beloved  child, 
our  only  hope  and  solace  in  the  world  ?  Death,  before 
W'Q.  are  aware,  may  have  struck  a  blow,  which  may 
leave  us  childless.  Have  we  a  wife,  endeared  to  us  by 
innumerable  offices  of  love  ?  She  may  be  a  corpse  to- 
morrow. O  how  loudly  does  such  a  stroke  as  this  call 
upon  us  to  have  no  idols  upon  earth,  to  sit  loose  to  the 
dearest  earthly  connections,  and  to  cling  closely  to  our 
God  !  A  husband  or  wife,  parents  or  children,  are 
wretched  substitutes  for  the  rock  of  ages.  We  rejoice 
over  them  in  the  morning,  "  but  the  wind  passeth  over 
them  in  the  evening,  and  they  are  gone." 

The  same  mournful  scene  shews  us  too  the  little  use, 
which  earthly  blessings  are  to  us,  while  we  retain  them. 
W^ho  more  blessed  wuth  all  the  world  can  give,  than 
she,  whose  loss  has  filled  our  land  with  weeping  ?  And 
yet  what  could  it  all  do  for  her  in  the  hour  of  need  ? 
Neither  the  skill  of  physicians,  nor  the  tears  of  a  beloved 
husband,  nor  the  prayers  of  a  trembling  nation,  could 
keep  off  even  for  an  hour  the  stroke  of  death,  or  miti- 
gate its  terrors.  Why  then  do  we  so  much  love  so 
weak  and  vain  a  world  ? 

2.  We  may  be  reminded  of  the  nothingness  of  man, 
by  looking,  secondly,  at  the  titter  vanity  of  all  his 


of  Human  Life.  S 1 1 

schemes  and  prospects.  We  are  creatures  of  the  most 
extravagant  hopes,  and  the  most  visionary  prospects. 
We  are  the  mere  creatures  of  a  day,  but  ages  would  be 
wanting  to  execute,  what  we  amuse  ourselves  with 
planning.  But  how  often  are  we  forced  to  observe  the 
abrupt  termination  of  human  schemes !  Man  dies,  and 
his  expectations  perish.  Years  were  wanting  to  com- 
plete his  plans,  but  they  are  all  cut  off  in  a  moment. 
The  thread  is  snapped  asunder,  almost  before  he  has 
begun  to  wind  it.  We  daily  see  that  one  man  builds, 
but  another  inhabits  the  house  ;  one  sows,  but  another 
reaps  the  corn.  Man  heapeth  up  riches,  but  he  cannot 
tell  who  shajl  gather  them ;  and  as  for  his  honours,  the 
laurel  fades,  as  soon  as  it  is  placed  upon  his  brow,  and 
the  applauses  of  a  world,  if  he  obtains  them,  are  soon 
110  more  to  him,  than  the  wind  that  blows  over  his 
grave. 

Who  can  tell  how  many  hopes  and  projects  will  be 
buried  within  that  tomb,  which  has  been  opened  to- 
day ?  The  hand,  that  was  so  often  stretched  out  in 
deeds  of  mercy,  is  now  motionless;  the  head,  that 
seemed  destined  to  wear  a  crown,  is  now  encircled  by 
a  shroud ;  the  generous  heart,  that  once  glowed  with 
the  thought  of  scattering  blessings  round  a  nation,  is 
cold  as  a  stone.  Ail  the  thousand  fond  anticipations 
connected  with  the  name  of  ^*  Mother,"  are  buried  in 
the  tomb.  O  let  the  thoughtless  young  among  us,  who 
are  planning  schemes  for  the  time  to  come,  look  here, 
and  see  the  utter  vanity  of  all  human  expectations. 
They  may  say  within  themselves,  "  To-day  or  to-mor- 
row, I  shall  go  here  or  there,  and  do  this  or  that ;"  but 
what  answer  does  this  coffin  send  them  ?  "  Thou 
knowest  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow.  Thou  may- 
est  die  to-day."  O  my  young  friends,  press  this  answer 


S12  The  Brevity  and  Vanity 

home  to  your  hearts.  Which  of  you  is  thinking  with 
de'ight  of  the  hour,  that  simll  again  bring  you  to  the 
arnrib  of  some  much  loved  Iriend  or  parent  ?  The  next 
tidings,  which  that  parent  hears  of  you,  may  be,  that 
yon  are  numbered  with  the  dead.  Which  of  you  is 
expecting  with  a  trembling  hope,  to  hear  the  name  of 
*^  Motlier?"  Before  that  sound  may  reach  your  ears, 
you  and  your  babe  may  say  to  corruption,  "  Thou  art 
my  father ;"  and  to  the  worm,  "  thou  art  my  mother 
and  my  sister." 

The  very  general  terms,  in  which  the  psalmist  speaks 
hi  the  text,  are  also  deserving  of  our  notice.  He  does 
not  Sciy  that  some  men  are  vanity,  but  every  man ;  not 
the  poor  and  the  ignorant,  the  feeble  and  the  old  only, 
but  man  in  his  best  state ;  and  not  only  is  every  man 
vanity,  but  a/together  vanity. 

The  psalmist's  language  is  as  strong  too,-  as  it  is 
general;  '^  Verily ^''^  says  he,  "every  man  is  vanity."" 
He  speaks  of  it  as  an  incontestable  fact,  as  the  result  of 
his  own  actual  experience. 

The  young  and  the  healthy  then,  the  wise  and  the 
learned,  the  rich  and  the  great,  are  all  included  in  this 
saying.  Every  man  is  ready  to  think  himself  exempted? 
but  we  are  all  on  an  equality  here.  No  rank,  however 
elevated,  can  lift  us  above  the  common  vanity  of  man, 
nor  any  degree  of  poverty  sink  us  below  it.  The  palace 
is  as  much  the  habitation  of  disappointment,  infirmity, 
and  disease,  as  the  cottage  ;  and  the  robes  of  royalty 
and  the  tattered  garments  of  beggary,  are  alike  preludes 
to  the  shroud.  "  All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of 
man  as  the  flower  of  grass."  The  flower  may  be  finer  in 
its  texture  than  the  common  grass ;  its  colours  may  be 
jnore  gay,  and  its  properties  more  useful ;  but  it  grows  in 
the  same  soil,  it  has  a  common  root,  a  common  nature, 


of  Human  Life,  213 

and  a  common  end.  It  is  exposed  to  the  same  scorch- 
ing heat,  the  same  frost,  and  the  same  scythe.  When 
"  the  grdss  withercth,  the  flower  fadeth." 

We  have  thus  taken  a  hasty  review  of  the  picture, 
which  the  psalmist  has  given  us  of  human  life,  li  would, 
under  any  circumstances,  suggest  to  us  the  same  infe- 
rence ;  but  when  viewed  in  connection  with  the  mourn- 
ful occasion,  which  has  brought  us  here,  how  forcibly 
does  it  remind  us  all  of  the  great  duty  of  consideratmi  ! 
W^e  are  all  most  awfully  careless,  brethren,  about  every 
thing,  which  relates  to  the  soul  and  eternity.  This  care- 
lessness is  inherent  in  our  nature,  and  no  power  but 
that  of  God  can  root  it  out  of  our  hearts.  And  yet  we 
could  not  have  within  us  a  more  fatal  enemy-than  this. 
Inconsideration  is  as  ruinous  to  the  soul,  as  any  sin  can 
be.  The  God  of  mercy  is  acquainted  with  this  bane  of 
our  nature;  and  in  compassion  to  our  souls,  he  employs 
his  providence  to  awake  us  out  of  this  dreadful  sleep. 
Has  then  the  mournful  stroke,  which  is  yet  fresh  in 
our  memories,  produced  this  effect  on  our  minds  ?  It 
has  filled  our  eyes  with  tears,  and  our  hearts  with  grief; 
l;ut  has  it  made  us  feel  the  precariousntss  of  all  our 
earthly  blessings  ?  the  vanity,  the  shortness,  the  uncer- 
tainty of  our  own  lives?  the  nearness  of  eternity  to  our 
own  souls?  Has  it  made  us  think  and  act  as  dying  men? 
Has  it  led  us  to  put  such  questions  as  thest;  to  out- 
hearts  ? — Am  1  prepared  to  die  ?  !s  the  great  business 
of  life  begun  ?  Have  I  made  the  days,  which  have 
passed  over  me,  my  days,  by  employing  tliem  in  seek- 
ing the  treasures  of  salvation  ?  I  see  that  I  must  soon 
be  in  eternity ;  Vv'hat  have  I  to  hope  for  there  ?  What 
is  stored  up  for  me  in  that  everlasting  home  ?  My  Bible 
tells  me  that  the  pursuits  of  the  world,  and  vanity,  and 
sin,  can   only  lay  up  wretchedness  in  eternity  for  my 


214  The  Brevity  and  Vanity 

soul;  in  what  other  pursuits  then  have  1  been  engaged? 
Have  I  been  making  a  serious  business  of  religion? 
Has  it  occupied  more  of  my  thoughts,  than  all  earthly 
objects  have  ?  Do  I  knovv  what  is  meant  by  that  deep 
humility,  that  self-renunciation,  that  renewal  of  the 
heart,  that  simple  trust  in  the  cross,  that  deadness  to 
the  world,  that  dedication  of  the  whole  man  to  God, 
which  my  Bible  tells  me  must  be  found  in  me,  before 
I  can  be  prepared  to  die  ?  If  1  knovv  nothing  of  these 
things,  what  is  my  state  ?  what  are  my  prospects  ?  My 
life  is  vanity ;  what  will  be  my  eternity  ? 

A  few  such  simple  questions  as  these,  brethren, 
pressed  home  to  the  heart  in  the  secrecy  of  retirement 
on  our  knees,  would  make  us  all  confess,  that  a  thought- 
less sinner  in  such  a  world  as  this,  is  a  wonder  in  the 
universe.  To  see  the  daily  ravages  of  death  around  us ;  ' 
to  be  standing  on  the  brink  of  the  grave ;  to  have  our 
feet  on  the  borders  of  eternity ;  and  yet  to  be  uncon- 
cerned about  the  never  ending  realities  of  that  world, 
which  stretches  itself  before  us,  and  to  be  absorbed  in 
the  wretched  vanities  of  that  little  spot  of  earth,  which 
lies  behind  us — where  is  the  being,  that  is  not  a  par- 
taker of  our  thoughtless  nature,  who  does  not  wonder 
at  our  folly  and  mourn  over  our  wretchedness  ? 

The  subject  we  have  been  considering  reminds  us, 
secondly,  of  the  great  evil  of  si?i.  Transgression  and 
death  both  came  into  the  world  together ;  the  one  is  only 
the  appointed  wages  of  the  other.  "  T/wu  hast  made 
my  days,"  says  David,  "  as  a  hand-breadth."  He  tells 
us  here,  that  it  was  not  mere  chance  which  made  our 
years  so  few,  and  our  life  so  full  of  vanity.  He  traces 
up  the  shortness  of  our  days  to  the  anger  of  an  offended 
God.  That  Holy  Being,  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  will 
not  suffer  creatures  such  as  we,  to  insult  and  violate 


of  Human  Life.  215 

with  impunity  his  sacred  law.  No  sooner  had  man 
sinned  against  him,  than  he  made  a  solemn  display  of 
his  infinite  holiness  and  awful  justice,  by  passing  a 
sentence  of  mortality  on  his  race.  It  is  sin,  which  has 
sowed  the  seeds  of  death  in  our  frame  and  corrupted 
our  nature.  It  is  sin,  which  fills  our  graves  and  lays 
generation  after  generation  in  the  dust.  O  how  great 
must  be  the  evil  of  that  iniquity,  which  could  make  a 
God  so  rich  in  mercy,  display  such  fearful  vengeance  ! 
Let  us  then  ever  connect  our  sin  with  our  mortality 
and  nothingness.  Let  every  pain  that  we  feel  in  our 
mortal  bodies,  let  every  sick  bed  that  we  visit,  let  every 
corpse  we  see,  and  every  knell  we  hear,  remind  us  of 
the  malignant  nature  of  this  evil,  and  teach  us  to  regard 
it  as  the  great  enemy  of  man. 

Another  serious  thought  follows  closely  upon  this. 
If  sin  is  so  dreadful  a  thing  in  this  world  of  mere}-, 
what  will  be  its  terrors  in  a  w^orld  of  unmingled  justice? 
If  it  has  brought  disease  and  pain,  corruption  and  death, 
into  my  body  here,  what  will  it  bring  into  my  soul 
there  ?  Brethren,  lay  this  thought  to  heart,  and  may  it 
lead  you,  through  grace,  this  very  hour,  to  that  long 
heard  of,  and  long  despised  fountain  of  a  Saviour's 
blood,  which  only  can  cleanse  the  soul  from  sin.  This 
great  evil  requires  a  great  remedy ;  and  the  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  has  provided  one  of  nfever  failing 
and  boundless  efficacy.  "  He  hath  sent  his  Son  to  be 
the  propitiation  for  our  sins;"  and  this  mournful  pro- 
vidence is  a  call  to  us  from  his  throne  to  hasten  to  the 
Saviour,  whom  his  love  has  provided.  O  may  the  Holy 
Spirit  incline  our  hearts  to  listen  to  the  call !  Mav  none 
of  us  despise  this  great  salvation  ! 

We  may  infer,  thirdly,  from  the  words  before  us, 
the  necessity  of  a  simple,  undivided  trust  i?i  God.    We 


*16  The  Bretity  and  Vanity 

all  feel  that  we  need  a  helper,  and  we  are  prone  to  look 
to  one  another  for  the  help  we  need ;  but  how  unwise 
3S  it  for  an  immortal  being  to  place  his  dependence  on 
a  creature,  who  is  so  near  the  grave,  and  who,  in  his 
best  state,  is  altogether  vanity  !  We  go  to  a  broken 
cistern,  when  we  need  a  fountain.  We  place  our  arm 
on  a  feeble  retd,  when  we  need  the  support  of  an  ever- 
lasting rock.  The  natural  consequences  of  this  conduct 
are  obvious;  we  are  daily  experiencing  them.  Our 
lives  are'  filled  with  disappointment  and  vexation. 
Either  our  prop  is  knocked  from  under  us,  or  it  sorely 
pierces  the  hand  which  leans  on  it.  But  no  man  ever 
yet  trusted  in  God  and  was  disappointed.  There  is  no 
weakness,  no  vanity,  no  death,  in  him. 

How  loudly  is  the  Almighty  now  calling  us  off  from 
every  earthly  ground  of  dependence,  by  that  solemn 
dispensation,  which  has  assembled  us  here  to  day  ! 
He  has  laid  in  the  dust  one,  who  seemed  destined  to 
be  a  blessing  to  our  land.  He  appeared  to  have  formed 
the  instrument  with  peculiar  care,  and  yet  we  have 
seen  him  dash  it  to  pieces  in  an  hour.  The  language 
of  this  afflictive  stroke  is  plain.  It  calls  upon  us  to 
"  cease  from  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils.'^ 
It  say^  to  us,  "Put  not  your  trust  in  princes,  nor  in 
the  son  of  man,  in  whom  there  is  no  help.  His  breath 
ffoeth  forth  ;  he  returneth  to  his  earth  :  in  that  very 
Bay,  his  thoughts  perish.  Happy  is  he,  that  hath  th^ 
God  of  Jacob  for  his  help,  whose  hope  is  in  the  Lord 
his  God."  It  is  true  indeed,  that  the  man  who  has 
the  strongest  trust  in  the  Almighty,  cannot  fathom 
this  mysterious  act  of  his  providence ;  but  then  it  is 
enough  for  him  to  know  that  Jesus,*  his  Saviour,  sits 
on  the  throne  of  the  universe,  and  makes  all  things 


of  Human  Life.  S17 

work  together  for  good  to  his  beloved  church. 
Though  he  cannot  see  his  God,  he  can  trust  him. 
If  we  are  partakers  of  this  spirit,  if  we  have  attained 
this  simple  dependence  upon  God,  the  blow,  which 
our  country  has  sustained,  however  grievous,  will 
not  disquiet  us.  The  kingdoms  of  the  world  are  as 
much  under  the  care  of  God,  as  the  sheep  of  his 
own  little  flock ;  yea,  as  his  own  eternal  heavens. 
They  are  not  outcast  orplians,  discarded  by  their 
heavenly  Father,  but  provinces  of  his  immense  em- 
pire ;  and  he  constantly  watches  over  and  manages 
all  their  aflfairs.  Our  own  England  is  the  object  of 
his  tenderest  care.  "  He  has  graven  her  upon  the 
palms  of  his  hands;  her  walls  are  continually  before 
him.  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her,  she  shall  not  be 
moved.  God  shall  help  her,  and  that  right  early." 
True,  we  have  lost  an  arm  of  flesh,  but  the  ever- 
lasting arms  of  Omnipotence  are  still  underneath  us. 
Let  it  be  our  concern  to  be  the  reconciled  children 
of  Jthovah  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  amidst  all  the  changes 
and  chances  of  this  mortal  life,  we  shall  be  safe. 
"  God  will  be  our  refuge  and  strength ;"  and  this 
shall  be  our  song;  "  The  Lord  of  hosts  is  with  us; 
the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge  "  . 

The  subject  we  have  been  considering  reminds 
us,  lastly,  of  the  folly  and  danger  of  indecision.  The 
period  of  life  is  too  short,  and  the  work  we  have  to 
do  in  it  is  too  great,  to  allow  us  to  hope  any  thing 
from  half  measures.  The  case  calls  for  the  most 
prompt  and  unqualified  decision.  It  tells  us  that  to 
defer,  is  to  be  in  danger;  that  to  hesitate,  is  to  be 
undone.  How  then  shall  we  bring  our  worldly 
hearts  to  this  entire  devotediiess  to  God,  to  this 
earnestness   in    religion  ?      Experience   tells   us    that 

Ee 


318  The  Brevity  mid  Vanity^  &c. 

no  resolutions  of  ours  can  effect  the  work.  It  bids 
us  trust  to  no  resolutions  ;  but  to  lie  low,  as  weak, 
helpless,  and  guilty  sinners,  before  the  Saviour's  cross. 
There  is  the  source  not  only  of  pardon,  but  of  ever- 
lasting strength.  There  may  be  found  victory  over 
the  world,  temptation,  and  sin  ;  a  life  of  happiness,  a 
death  of  peace,  and  an  eternity  of  joy. 


SERMON  XV. 


THE  GLORY  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


%   CORINTHIANS  111.  7,  8,  9,  10,   H. 

If  the  tninistration  of  death,  written  and  engraven  in  stones,  was  glo- 
rious, so  that  the  children  of  Israel  could  not  stcdfastly  behold  the 
face  of  Moses  for  the  ghry  of  his  countenance,  which  glory  was  to  be 
done  away  ;  how  shall  not  the  ministration  of  the  Sjiirit  be  rather 
glorious  ?  For  if  the  miiiistration  of  condenmati'j?i  be  glory,  much 
more  doth  the  ministration  of  righteousness  exceed  iji  glory.  For  even 
that  which  was  made  glorious,  had  no  glory  in  this  resfiect,  by  rea- 
son of  the  glory  that  excelleth.  For  if  that  which  is  done  away  was 
glorious,  much  more  that  which  remaineth  is  glorious. 


J.  HE  authority  of  Saint  Paul,  as  a  minister  of  Christ, 
was  so  much  undervahied  by  some  of  the  Corinthian, 
converts,  that  he  was  often  obliged  to  vindicate  his  own 
personal  character  among  them,  and  to  magnify  the 
dignity  of  his  office.  The  epistle  before  us  v/as  written 
partly  with  this  object  in  view.  In  furtherance  of  it, 
the  apostle  draws  in  the  text  a  contrast  between  the 
Mosaic  and  Christian  dispensations,  and  shews  how  far 
the  ministry  of  the  one  excels  that  of  the  other,  by 
proving  the  superior  glory  of  the  gospel  above  that  of 
'the  law. 

In  endeavouring  to  derive  instruction  from  his 
words,  let  us  consider,  Jirst,  the  description,  which 
the  npostle  has  here  given  us  of  the  law ;  secondly,  his 
description  of  the  gospel ;  and,  thirdly^  the  superior 
glory  of  the  one,  when  compared  with  the  glory  o( 
the  other. 


320  The  Glory 

I.  The  words  of  the  text  afford  us,  first,  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  law.  We  are  not  however  to  understand  by 
this  term  that  original  law  only,  which  is  the  universal 
law  of  God's  kingdom,  the  law  of  the  creation  ;  but  ra- 
ther that  particular  modification  of  it,  which  was  given 
to  the  Israelites  on  mount  Sinai,  and  which  formed  a 
principal  part  of  the  Mosaic  dispensation.  But  as  there 
is  no  essential  difference  between  the  moral  part  of  this 
dispensation  and  the  original  law  of  God,  they  may 
with  the  greatest  propriety  be  spoken  of  as  one  and 
the  same  law ;  and  the  words  before  us  may  be  applied 
to  the  one  with  as  much  propriety,  as  they  may  to  the 
other. 

1.  Now  the  apostle  calls  this  law  the  ministration  of 
condemnation.  Not  that  it  at  once  condemns  all,  who 
are  under  it,  irrespective  of  their  obedience  or  disobe- 
dience to  its  commands.  The  angels  have  been  under 
it  from  the  hour  of  their  creation,  aiid  yet  we  know  that 
a  great  part  of  them  have  never  been  condemned  by  it. 
But  being  a  holy,  just,  and  good  law,  it  cannot  con- 
nive at  sin.  It  requires  perfect,  sinless  obedience  in  all, 
who  are  under  its  authority  ^  and  it  consequently  con- 
demns the  creature,  as  soon  as  the  creature  becomes  a 
sinner.  Its  plain  and  unequivocal  language  to  the  Is- 
raelites was  this,  and  it  is  the  same  to  every  rational 
being  in  the  universe,  "  Cursed  is  every  one,  that  con- 
tinueih  not  in  all  things  which  are  written  in  the  book 
of  the  kiw,  to  do  them."  it  is  evident  therefore,  that 
the  Israelites,  and  all  who  have  been  partakers  of  hu- 
man nature  since  it  was  first  defiled  by  sin,  must  be 
subject  to  this  curse,  must  be  under  the  condemnation 
of  this  law,  must  as  sinners  be  brought  in  guilty  before 
God,  and  stand  before  him  as  condemned  criminals. 

2.  liencc  the   apostle  calls  this  law,  secondly,  the 


of  the  Gospel.  22  i 

ministration  of  death.  Its  sentence  is  a  sentence  of 
death.  All,  who  are  condemned  by  it,  are  condemned 
to  die.  This  is  its  invariable  decree  ;  "  The  soul  that 
sinneth,  it  shall  die." 

Natural  death,  the  death  of  the  body,  is  a  part  of  the 
sentence,  but  it  is  not  all  of  it.  A  more  dreadful  part 
is  the  death  of  the  soul;  not  its  annihilation,  but  that 
spiritual  death,  which  makes  us  so  careless  about  spiri- 
tual and  eternal  things  in  this  world,  and  that  eternal 
death,  which  includes  in  it  the  utter  loss  of  all,  that  can 
render  existence  a  blessing  in  the  world  to  come.  This 
death  is  nothing  less  than  being  cut  off  for  ever  from 
God,  the  fountain  of  happiness  ;  and  connected  by  an 
eternal  chain  with  that  dreadful  being,  who  is  the  source 
of  misery  and  sin. 

Now  from  this  death,  from  the  execution  of  this 
sentence,  the  law  provides  no  resource.  It  flows  indeed 
from  the  divine  goodness,  and  was  instituted  and  is 
maintained  for  purposes,  which,  in  their  ultimate  con- 
sequences, are  purely  benevolent ;  but  then  it  has 
nothing  to  do  with  mercy  ;  it  is  a  law  of  pure,  un- 
mingled  justice.  Sacrifices  for  sin,  it  is  true,  were 
added  to  this  law  under  the  Mosaic  dispensation  of  it ; 
but  these  must  not  be  considered  as  possessi/ig  any 
inherent  power  to  remove  its  curse,  or  to  atone  for  the 
transgressions  committed  against  it.  They  were  merely 
typical  of  that  great  sacrifice  for  sin,  which  was  to 
form  a  part  of  another  and  a  more  glorious  dispensa- 
tion. They  could  not  expiate  guilt,  they  could  not 
save  the  soul.  Saint  Paul  declares  in  the  plainest  terms, 
that  it  is  not  possible  th.at  the  blood  of  bulls  and  of 
goats  should  take  away  sins;  and  even  the  more  en- 
lightened of  those,  vv'ho  lived  under  this  dispensation, 
saw  that  it   was  in  vain   to  come  before    the    Lord 


'^22  The  Glory 

with  burnt  offerings;  that  the  high  God  could  not  be 
pleased  with  thousands  of  rams,  or  ten  thousands  of 
rivers  of  oil ;  that  he  would  not  take  even  their  first- 
born for  their  transgression,  the  fruit  of  their  body  for 
the  sin  of  their  soul. 

The  sinner  therefore,  under  this  law,  becomes  on 
his  very  first  transgression,  a  condemned  sinner,  a  pe- 
rishing sinner,  a  hopeless  sinner.  He  has  the  curse  of  a 
holy  God  upon  his  head,  and  he  is  without  any  means 
whatsoever  of  removing  it.  Justly  therefore  does  the 
apostle  call  it  a  ministration  of  condemnation  and  of 
death. 

II.  But  what  names  docs  he  apply  to  the  gospel  or 
the  Christian  dispensation  ?  He  calls  it  the  ministration 
of  the  Spirit,  and  the  ministration  of  righteousness. 

1.  It  is  the  ministration  of  righteousness.  We  all 
know  what  righteousness  implies.  It  is  a  conformity 
to  some  moral  standard,  to  some  law  ;  and  the  law  here 
alluded  to  by  the  term,  is  the  very  law  we  have  been 
considering ;  not  that  modification  of  it  merel)-,  which 
was  given  to  the  Jews,  but  that  universal  and  eternal 
law,  on  which  the  Mosaic  dispensation  was  built,  and 
agreeably  to  which  all  the  dealings  of  God  with  his 
rational  creatures  are  regulated. 

It  has  indeed  been  supposed  that  the  Scriptures  speak 
occasionally  of  some  other  law,  of  some  new  and  less 
rigorous  rule  of  life,  which  God  has  given  as  a  remedial 
law  to  fallen  man ;  but  this  opinion  must  be  traced  to 
mean  and  erroneous  ideas  of  the  Deity,  and  to  an  un- 
humbled  and  ungodly  state  of  heart.  It  is  opposed  to 
the  whole  tenour  of  Scripture,  as  well  as  to  many  of 
its  plainest  declarations  ;  and  when  brought  to  the  test 
of  reason  and  common  sense,  it  appears  altogether  ab- 
surd ;  yea,  it  is  blasphemous  ;  for  what  does  it  imply  ? 


of  the  Gospel  223 

Nothing  less  tlian  this,  that  the  all- wise  Governor  of 
the  universe  made  some  grand  mistake,  when  he  ori- 
ginally gave  his  law  to  this  part  of  his  creation  ;  that 
in  consideration  of  our  depravity,  he  is  now  constrained 
to  repeal  it,  and  to  issue  a  new  one.  It  makes  the  sup- 
posed ability  or  rather  the  inclination  of  a  corrupt  and 
changeable  creature,  the  rule  of  his  duty  and  the  stan- 
dard of  his  obedience.  In  fact,  it  removes  from  the 
throne  of  the  universe  a  God  of  infinite  wisdom,  .good- 
ness, and  purity ;  and  places  on  that  glorious  throne  a 
mutable  and  capricious  being,  who  can  look  on  sin 
with  indifference,  and  tolerate  and  almost  sanction  that 
dreadful  evil,  which  has  filled  so  fair  a  part  of  his  crea- 
tion with  wretchedness. 

A  very  little  serious  reflection  on  this  subject,  my 
brethren,  will  be  sufficient  to  convince  us,  that  God 
could  never  give  to  any  one  of  his  creatures  any  other 
law,  than  that  which  requires  perfect  obedience  and 
spotless  purity ;  that  this  is  the  only  law  of  his  moral 
government,  and  must  be  as  unalterable  and  eternal, 
as  his  own  unchangeable  throne.  This  law  and  no 
other  is  alluded  to  in  the  text,  and  it  is  in  reference  to 
this  law,  that  the  apostle  calls  the  gospel  a  ministration 
of  righteousness.  He  does  not  call  it  so  simply  or  chiefly 
because  it  enjoins  and  secures  the  practice  of  righteous- 
ness among  men,  but  for  another  and  a  higher  reason  ; 
because  it  provides  for  the  penitent  aud  believing  sinner 
a  complete  satisfaction  for  the  offences  he  has  com- 
mitted against  the  law  of  God,  and  an  obedience  per- 
fectly commensurate  with  its  demands.  It  tells  him  of 
one,  who  has  redeemed  him  from  the  curse  of  the  law, 
being  made  a  curse  for  him.  It  assures  him  that  God 
has  set  forth  his  own  eternal  Son,  made  of  a  woman, 
made  under  the  law,  to  redeem  them  that  were  under 


224  The  Glory 

tnc  law,  to  remove  its  sentence  from  them,  and  to  save 
thcni  from  condemnation  and  from  death.  But  the 
gospel  goes  still  further.  It  tells  the  ranso  ned  and  par- 
doned penitent  that  he,  who  endured  the  curse  of  the 
law  for  his  sinful  soul,  fulfilled  its  demands  in  his  stead; 
that  thoupjh  his  God  regards  him,  and  must  ever  regard 
him  as  a  sinner,  yet  for  the  sake  of  an  obedience, 
wrought  out  by  another  greater  and  holier  than  he  on 
his  behalf,  he  will  treat  him  as  though  he  were  righ- 
teous, and  raise  him  to  heaven.  If  we  ask  the  name  of 
this  great  and  gracious  friend,  this  he  tells  us,  is  the 
name  whereby  he  shall  be  called,  ^'  The  Lord  our 
righteousness."  And  he  has  taught  his  apostle  to  give 
us  this  testimony  concerning  him,  that  "  Christ  is  the 
end  of  the  law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that  be- 
lieveth." 

Thus  the  gospel  reveals  to  us  a  way,  by  which  sin 
may  be  pardoned  and  the  sinner  saved,  in  perfect  con- 
sistency with  the  undeviating  rectitude  of  Jehovah's 
moral  government,  and  the  honour  of  his  inviolable 
law.  This  way  of  pardon  and  salvation  is  not  opposed 
to  the  law  ;  it  does  not  make  it  void  ;  so  far  from  it 
that  it  is  grounded  on  it ;  it  establishes  its  authority  ; 
it  magnifies  it  and  makes  it  honourable  ;  it  gives  it  the 
highest  and  the  most  awful  sanction,  which  it  is  capa- 
ble of  receiving. 

2.  But  the  apostle  applies  another  name  to  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation,  and  calls  it  the  ministration  of  the 
Spirit.  He  gives  it  this  name  on  account  of  the  great 
out-pouring  of  the  Spirit,  with  which  this  dispensation 
commenced,  and  the  abundant  communication  of  the 
same  Spirit,  with  which  it  has  ever  since  been  attended. 
Not  that  we  are  to  suppose  that  the  church  under  the 
dispensation  of  the  law  was  entirely  destitute  of  this 


of  the  Gospel,  225 

Spirit.  It  was  solely  through  his  gracious  and  power- 
ful influence,  that  Enoch  walked  with  God  and  Noah 
feared  him,  that  Abraham  believed  in  him  and  Moses 
served  him.  It  was  he,  who  filled  the  souls  of  the 
prophets,  and  enabled  them  to  foretel  with  such  won- 
derful accuracy  the  advent,  the  death,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Messiah.  But  the  great  and  general  effusion  of  the 
Spirit  was  reserved  for  a  brighter  and  more  glorious 
day  of  grace.  The  Son  of  God,  as  the  Mediator  of 
his  church,  purchased  on  the  cross  all  the  fulness  of 
the  Spirit;  and  when  he  ascended  into  heaven,  he 
obtained  the  ministration  of  it,  and  gave  that  full  dis- 
play of  its  power,  which  filled  Jerusalem  with  astonish- 
ment on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  and  added  to  his  per- 
secuted church  in  one  hour  three  thousand  souls.  He 
has  ever  since  been  bestowing  the  same  gift,  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  on  the  world ;  and  has  proved  his  gos- 
pel to  be  the  ministration  of  an  almighty  Spirit  by  the 
moral  wonders,  which  it  has  wrought  among  mankind. 

And  this  thought,  my  brethren,  should  much  endear 
the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  all,  who  are  made  par- 
takers of  it.  It  is  the  purchase  of  Christ ;  his  donation  ; 
the  legacy,  which  he  bequeathed  to  us  when  he  left  the 
world  ;  the  gift,  which  is  to  be  our  comforter  in  his 
absence,  and  to  abide  with  us  till  he  comes  again  to 
take  us  to  heaven. 

HI.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  our  third  subject  of  con- 
sideration, the  superior  glory  of  the  gospel,  when  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  law. 

The  apostle  does  not  assert  that  the  Jewish  dispen- 
sation  had  no  glory.  He  speaks  of  it  on  the  contrary 
as  a  very  glorious  dispensation.  It  had  a  glorious 
author,  even  tiie  King  of  heaven  and  the  Monarch  of 
myriads  of  worlds.    The  object  oi  it  was  glorious.    It 

Ff 


'n 


25  The  Glory 

was  designed  to  unfold  many  of  the  attributes  of  the 
Almighty,  which  the  works  of  creation  were  not  calcu- 
lated to  display;  to  shew  forth  his  infinite  justice, 
purity,  and  majesty.  It  was  published  in  a  glorious 
manner,  in  the  midst  of  thunderings  and  lightnings, 
and  all  the  mcigiiificLnce  of  terror;  and  when  it  was 
first  written,  it  was  not  suffered  to  be  transcribed  by 
any  human  hand,  but  it  was  written  by  the  finger  of 
God  on  tables  of  stone  hewn  out  by  himself.  The 
Israelites,  as  they  heard  it  published,  feared  and  trem- 
bled ;  and  after  it  was  writ! en,  it  reflected  so  bright  a 
lustre  on  him,  who  wjs  appointed  to  carry  it  to  them, 
that  the  children  of  Israel  could  not  stedfastly  behold 
the  face  of  Moses  for  the  glory  of  his  countenance. 

But  notwithstanding  all  this  display  of  magnificence, 
the  glory  of  the  law  sinks  into  nothing  when  compared 
with  the  gospel.  The  star  of  morning  shines  brightly, 
as  long  as  all  around  it  is  darkness,  but  when  the  sun 
has  begun  to  rise,  we  no  longer  admire  nor  perceive 
its  faded  beams.  "  That  which  was  made  glorious," 
says  the  apostle,  "  had  no  glory  in  this  respect,  by- 
reason  of  the  glory  whicli  excelleih.  " 

The  names,  which  are  here  applied  to  the  law  and 
the  gospel,  shew  us  at  once  the  piopriety  of  this  lan- 
guage. The  one  is  the  ministration  of  righteousness 
and  of  the  Spirit  ;  it  provides  for  the  justification  and 
sanctification  of  the  sinner,  while  the  other  provides  for 
neither;  ii  is  the  ministration  of  condemnation  .md  death, 
and  leaves  the  sinner  to  perish.  But  the  s  -perior  glory 
of  the  gospel  may  be  elucidated  by  other  considerations. 

1.  It  offers  greater  blessings  to  man,  than  were  of- 
fered by  the  law.  The  Mosaic  dispensation  had  a  re- 
ference principally  to  the  present  life,  and  most  of  its 
promises  were  temporal  promises.  And  if  we  go  back 
to  the  original  law,  on  which  this  dispensation  was 


of  the  Gospel  S27 

founded,  we  shall  find  that  it  had  not  those  blessings 
to  offer  even  to  the  most  righteous,  which  are  offered 
in  the  gospel  to  the  most  sinful.  Its  language  to  the 
creature  is,  "  This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live  ;  thou  shalt 
remain  in  thy  present  state  of  blessedness,  and  shalt 
still  enjoy  the  same  degree  of  divine  favour,  of  which 
thou  art  now  possessed." 

It  is  useless  to  ask  what  the  present  condition  of 
man  would  have  been,  if  he  had  never  broken  the  law 
given  to  him.  It  would  undoubtedly  have  been  a  state 
of  happiness.  But  the  gospel  offers  to  his  fallen  race 
far  richer  blessings,  than  were  forfeited  by  the  sin  of 
Adam.  It  offers  us  not  an  earthly  paradise,  but  a 
heavenly  one  ;  not  the  trees  of  Eden,  but  the  tree  of  life, 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of  God.  The 
covenant  of  works  found  man  in  a  state  little  lower 
than  the  angels ;  and  it  promised  him,  as  long  as  he 
was  obedient  to  its  precepts,  to  keep  him  there.  The 
covenant  of  grace  finds  him  degraded  almost  to  aa 
equality  with  the  devils ;  and  yet  it  offers  to  i^aise  the 
meanest  of  his  race  to  a  participation  of  the  glory  and 
happiness  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  gospel  tells  us 
not  merely  of  the  pardon  of  sin,  of  deliverance  from 
the  curse  of  the  law,  of  salvation  from  hell ;  it  lifts  up 
our  eyes  to  the  everlasting  hills  of  heaven,  and  tells  the 
redeemed  sinner  to  hope  for  a  mansion  there,  a  crown, 
and  a  throne.  It  bids  him  stretch  his  imagination  to 
the  very  utmost ;  and  when  he  has  heaped  together  all 
the  joys  which  his  imagination  can  suggest,  it  tells  nini 
that  greater  joys  than  these  may  be  his  own  ;  that  his 
heart  has  not  even  yet  conceived  the  things,  which  God 
has  prepared  for  the  repentant  sinner,  who  loves  him. 
It  places  within  his  reach  a  share  of  that  very  joy,  which 
satisfies  the  Redeemer  for  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and 


S28  The  Glory 

more  than  compensates  the  many  woes  of  liis  life,  and 
the  bitter  sufferings  of  his  death.  Well  therefore  may  it 
be  called  "  a  better  covenant,  established  upon  better 
promises." 

2.  We  may  see  more  of  the  comparative  glory  of 
the  gospel  by  recollecting,  secondly,  that  it  not  only 
offers  to  man  richer  blessin^js,  than  the  Mosaic  dispen- 
sation had  to  offer,  but  it  offers  these  blessings  more  ex- 
tensively. The  promises  of  the  lawr  were  confined  to 
one  nation  only,  and  that  not  a  numerous  one ;  and 
even  of  this  nation,  it  was  but  a  little  remnant,  that  in- 
herited the  spiritual  benefits  of  the  dispensation,  under 
which  they  lived.  The  blessings  of  the  gospel,  on  the 
contrary,  are  thrown  open  to  all  the  world,  without  dis- 
tinction of  nation,  sect,  or  person  ;  and  there  is  not  a 
single  sinner  breathing  on  the  earth,  who  may  not  come 
and  take  its  richest  mercies  freely,  without  money  and 
without  price,  as  soon  as  he  hears  of  them.  The  field 
of  the  law  was  the  land  of  Judea  ;  the  field  of  the  gos- 
pel is  the  whole  world.  Already  has  the  publication 
of  it  been  the  means  of  saving  unnumbered  myriads, 
whom  the  Jewish  law,  had  it  continued  to  the  present 
day,  would  have  left  to  perish.  In  every  part  of  the 
globe  thousands  have  experienced  the  saving  efficacy 
of  its  redeeming  grace,  and  multitudes  are  daily 
ascending  from  the  once  dark  corners  of  the  earth  to 
the  light  of  heaven,  and  are  swelling  there  its  chorus 
of  praise. 

And  yet  extensively  as  the  gospel  has  diffused  its 
blessings  and  its  conquests,  the  faithful  word  of  pro- 
phecy assures  us  that  it  will  diffuse  them  still  more 
extensively.  It  has  already  spurned  the  narrow  sphere 
of  a  single  land,  but  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  are 
designed  to  be  the  scene  of  its  triumphs,  and  its  glory. 


of  the  Gospel.  2^9 

A  time  is  rapidly  approaching,  when  the  King  of  Zioii 
shall  be  the  King  of  the  whole  cirth  ;  when  every  knee 
shall  bow  to  him,  and  every  tongne  confess  him  to  be 
the  Lord.  How  many  years  and  ages  must  roll  away 
before  this  period  arrives,  we  know  not;  but  there  is 
reason  to  hope  that  we  ourselves  have  seen  the  dawn 
of  this  glorious  day.  In  our  own  honoured  land,  a  Spirit 
has  been  excited,  and  a  voice  has  gone  forth  from  it, 
which  have  filled  the  Christian  church  with  the  liveliest 
expectation.  In  the  troublesome  times  of  contention 
and  of  v\'ar,  England  has  lifted  up  the  banner  of  the 
cross,  and  has  been  calling  a  perishing  world  to  sal- 
vation and  to  God.  The  ignorant  and  the  vicious,  the 
hikewarm  and  the  selfish,  have  beheld  her  efforts  and 
decried  them ;  they  have  deemed  her  labours  of  love 
the  mere  phrenzies  of  an  enthusiastic  age;  but  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  has  been  with  her  to  strengthen  her, 
and  God,  even  her  own  God,  has  given  her  his  bless- 
ing. Already  have  her  own  borders  been  gladdened 
with  more  abundant  means  of  grace,  than  ever  land 
possessed  ;  and  she  has  received  many  an  earnest  of 
future  triumphs  on  foreign  shores.  Only  let  the  sacred 
flame,  which  Christian  love  has  enkindled,  be  kept 
burning  on  her  altars,  and  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord 
shall  prosper  in  her  hand.  Her  success  cannot  be 
doubtful.  It  may  be  distant,  but  it  is  sure.  The  wav 
of  the  Lord  shall  be  known  upon  earth,  and  his  saving 
health  among  all  nations.  The  people  shall  be  glad 
and  sing  for  joy  ;  and  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  shall 
praise  and  fear  their  God. 

3.  The  gospel  has  a  greater  injiuence  on  the  hearts 
of  men ^  than  the  Mosaic  dispensation  ever  had,  and  is 
consequently  more  glorious.  That  dispensation  pub- 
lished to  the  Israelites  a  pure  and  holy  law,  but  it  had 


S30  The  Gloi'Tj 

no  power  to  touch  their  sinful  hearts  and  to  cause 
them  to  love  and  obey  this  law.  It  gave  them  pre- 
C(  pts,  promises,  and  threatenings ;  but  it  could  do  no 
more.  It  was  not  the  ministration  of  the  Spirit,  and 
the  consequence  was,  that  it  left  the  greater  part  of 
them  as  rebellious  and  idolatrous  as  it  found  them. 
The  gospel,  on  the  contrary,  was  no  sooner  published, 
than  it  made  glorious  and  surprising  changes  in  the 
characters  and  lives  of  nHillitndes,  who  embraced  it. 
It  was  preached  by  poor  and  illiterate  men,  but  it  made 
the  ungodly  tremble  and  the  hard-hearted  weep.  It 
induced  the  proud  to  give  up  the  pmiscs  of  men,  and 
to  take  in  exchange  for  them  the  reproach  of  Christ. 
It  selected  its  friends  out  of  the  fiercest  ranks  of  its 
enemies  ;  and  they,  who  were  violent  persecutors  one 
day,  were  made  willing  martyrs  the  next. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  Spirit,  the  gospel  still 
proves  itself  possessed  of  unconiroulable  power  over 
every  one,  who  really  receives  it.  It  pierces  the  con- 
science ;  it  softens  the  heart ;  it  purifies  the  soul. 
The  lover  of  pleasure  hears  it,  and  becomes  a  lover  of 
God.  The  thoughtless  trifler  is  struck  by  it,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  begins  to  think  and  to  pray. 
The  sensualist,  as  he  listens  to  its  sayings,  tears  his 
lusts  out  of  his  heart ;  and  the  man,  who  before  loved 
and  served  the  world,  turns  his  back  on  it,  tramples 
its  sins  and  follies  underneath  his  feet,  and  fixes  his 
eyes  on  heaven.  Thus  has  the  gospel  brought  thou- 
sands to  righteousness,  whom  the  mornl  law  could  not 
have  reclaimed  ;  and  thus  has  it  proved  its  superior 
glory  by  its  superior  influence  over  the  hearts  of 
mankind. 

4.  The  glory  of  the  gospel  is  greater  than  that  of 
the  Jewish  dispensation,  because   it  is  a  glory  -which 


will  last  for  ever.  This  appears  to  be  the  principal 
ground  of  superiority,  on  which  Saint  Paul  insists  in 
the  text.  He  tells  us,  in  the  seventh  verse,  that  all  the 
glory  of  mount  Sinai  was  to  be  done  away  ;  and  again, 
in  the  eleventh  verse,  he  says,  "  If  that,  which  was 
done  away,  was  glorious  ;  much  more  that,  which  re- 
niaineth,  is  glorious," 

Not  that  we  are  to  infer  that  tlie  moral  law  of  God 
is  or  ever  will  be  abolished.  The  apostle  d(>es  not 
refer  in  these  words  to  the  law  itself;  but  to  that 
ministration  of  it,  which  was  established  by  Moses, 
and  to  those  peculiar  rites  and  ordinances,  which  were 
connected  with  it  under  the  Jewish  di^spensation.  This 
dispensation  was  in  fact  designed  to  be  introductory  to 
the  gospel.  It  was  intended,  as  the  Scriptures  inform 
us,  to  be  our  schoolmaster  to  bring  us  to  Christ,  to 
shew  to  the  Israelites  their  need  of  a  sacrifice  and  a 
Saviour,  and  to  point  out  the  Messiah  to  them  as  the 
great  atonement  ior  sin.  When  therefore  the  Mejssiah 
aj)peared,  the  design  of  the  ceremonial  law  was  an- 
swered, and  it  became  a  useless  and  lifeless  form. 

But  the  go^jpel  is  not  thus  temporary  in  its  nature. 
Its  duration  will  be  commensurate  with  the  exibtence 
of  the  world,  yea,  with  the  ages  of  eternity.  It  is  called 
an  everlasting  covenant ;  a  perpetual  covenant,  that 
shall  not  be  forgotten.  It  is  described  as  a  covenant 
built  on  Christ,  who  abideth  for  ever,  and  partaking 
of  the  stability  of  its  foundation. 

5.  The  gospel  is  a  brighter  display  of  the  divine  per- 
fections than  the  iaxv^  and  is  tliercibre  more  glorious. 
AH  tiie  attributes  of  Jehovah,  which  were  displayed 
in  the  one,  are  displayed  also  in  the  other,  and  that  in 
£1  clearer  and  more  glorious  light.  In  this  point  of 
view,  the  mount  of  Sinai,  with  ail  its  dreadful  magniii- 


232  The  Glory 

cence,  sinks  into  nothing-,  when  compared  with  the 
hill,  on  which  the  Son  of  God  gave  up  the  gliost.  The 
cross  of  Christ  threw  a  lustre  over  the  justice,  the 
holiness,  and  the  majesty  of  God,  which  these  attri- 
butes never  had  before  ;  and  gave  them  a  glory,  which 
the  destruction  of  a  whole  world  of  sinners,  under  the 
curse  of  the  law,  never  could  have  given  them.  It  was 
on  this  cross  also  that  divine  mercy  was  first  displayed 
to  a  wondering  universe;  and  it  was  here  that  re- 
deeming grace  seemed  to  burst  into  existence.  These 
perfections  had  been  from  eternity  in  the  mind  of  Je- 
hovah, but  his  creatures  saw  them  not ;  they  knew 
nothing  of  them,  till  they  were  discovered  on  the  cross 
of  their  suffering  King,  in  all  their  infinite  extent  and 
boundless  magnificence.  Here  also  was  seen  unsearcha- 
ble wisdom,  glorifying  itself  in  a  plan  of  salvation,  by 
which  all  the  perfections  of  the  Deity  are  called  into 
exercise,  and  all  acting  in  perfect  harmony,  none  of 
them  eclipsing  or  darkening  the  others,  but  all  ming- 
ling their  beams  and  shining  with  united  and  eternal 
splendour. 

These  then  are  some  of  the  points,  in  which  the 
gospel  excels  the  Mosaic  dispensation.  It  is  the  mini- 
stration of  righteousness  and  of  the  Spirit,  while  the 
law  is  the  ministration  of  condemnation  and  of  death. 
It  offers  greater  blessings  to  man,  than  were  offered  by 
the  law ;  it  offers  these  blessings  more  extensively  ;  it 
has  a  greater  influence  on  the  hearts  of  mankind  ;  its 
glory  is  of  longer  duration  ;  and  it  is  a  brighter  display 
of  the  attributes  of  God.  It  now  only  remains  that 
we  deduce  from  this  subject  a  few  of  the  reftections, 
which  it  naturally  suggests. 

Huw  honourable  an  ujfice   is  that  of  a  minister  of 
Christ.     The   contrast  in  the  text  was  drawn  to  shew 


of  the  Gospel.  S3 3 

the  greatness  of  the  dignity  conferred  on  him,  and  the 
title  which  it  gives  him  to  the  respect  and  love  of  man- 
kind. They,  who  brought  to  the  Israelites  a  law  of 
condemnation  and  of  death,  were  thought  worthy  of 
honour;  but  of  how  much  greater  honour  shall  they 
be  thougiit  worthy,  who  are  commissioned  to  make 
known  to  their  brethren  the  gospel  of  peace  ;  that  gos- 
pel which  discovers  to  the  universe  the  glory  of  God, 
and  opens  to  a  perishing  world  a  way  to  heaven  !  Tiiere 
is  not  an  angel  above  us,  who  would  not  rejoice  to 
come  down  to  the  earth  on  such  an  errand  as  this,  and 
deem  himself  honoured  above  his  fellows  by  the  work. 
O  t*iat  every  minister  of  Christ  made  his  dignified 
employment  the  great  source  of  his  happiness  !  O  that 
his  brethren  were  ready  to  give  him  the  affection  and 
reverence,  which  God  has  made  his  due  !  May  all  the 
people  of  our  Zion  learn  to  value  the  faithful  minister 
of  the  gospel !  and  to  all  her  ministers  may  this  grace 
be  given,  that  they  may  love  to  preach  among  her  peo- 
ple the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ ! 

Hnw  great  is  the  privilege  which  we  enjoy  in  living 
under  the  dispensation  of  the  gospel!  We  have  often 
heard  of  the  great  love  of  God  to  his  people  of  old, 
and  we  have  sometimes  almost  envied  them  the  pecu- 
liar privileges  they  enjoyed ;  but  what  were  their  privi- 
leges, when  compared  with  ours  ?  They  lived  under 
a  ministration  of  condemnation  and  of  death,  but  we 
are  living  under  a  ministration  of  the  Spirit  and  of  righ- 
teousness. Tliey  had  to  learn  all  that  they  could  learn 
of  the  way  to  heaven  from  types  and  figures  ;  but  we 
with  open  face  behold  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the 
Lord,  and  see  plainly  marked  out  before  us  the  path 
of  life.  Noah  and  Abraham,  Moses  and  David,  had 
promises  to  hope  in ;  but  to  us  these  promises  have 

Gg 


S34  The  Glory 

been  fulfilled.  A  rod  has  come  forth  out  of  the  stem 
of  Jesse,  and  u  branch  has  grown  out  of  his  roots.  The 
Messiah  has  been  lifted  up  as  an  ensign  to  the  people. 
He  has  risen  as  the  sun  of  righteousness  on  a  be- 
nighted world,  and  in  him  the  nations  of  the  earth  are 
blessed.  Our  eyes  see  and  our  ears  hear  what  many 
prophets  and  righteous  men,  age  after  age,  desired  ta 
hear  and  to  see,  but  were  not  able. 

Let  us  rejoice  then  in  our  superior  privileges.  Let 
us  be  thankful  for  them.  Let  us  be  concerned  to  im- 
prove and  dread  to  abuse  them.  Let  us  remember 
these  words  of  the  apostle.  *'  See  that  ye  refuse  not 
him  that  speaketh  ;  for  if  they  escaped  not,  who  re- 
fused him  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more  shall  not  we 
escape,  if  we  turn  away  from  him  that  speaketh  from 
heaven." 

How  great  a  debt  of  gratitude  and  praise  does 
every  Christian  owe  to  his  crucijied  Lord!  It  was 
Christ,  who  turned  the  ministration  of  death  into  a 
ministration  of  life  and  peace.  It  was  Christ,  who 
brought  down  glad  tidings  of  good  from  heaven,  and 
purchased  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  for  mankind. 
All  our  spiritual  blessings  flow  from  him.  Our  adop- 
tion is  by  him.  Our  redemption  and  remission  of  sins 
are  through  him.  Through  , Christ  God  hears  our 
prayers,  and  gives  us  freedom  of  access  to  his  throne. 
Through  Christ  he  justifies  and  sanctifies  us.  Through 
Christ  he  blesses  and  saves  us.  Our  freedom  from 
the  law  too  must  be  ascribed  tp  the  same  source.  We 
were  not  free  born,  but  Christ  with  a  great  price, 
even  the  price  of  his  own  blood,  purchased  our  free- 
dom. It  was  he,  "  who  blotttd  out  the  hand  writing 
of  ordinances,  that  was  against  us,  which  was  contrary 
to  us,  and  took  it  out  of  the  way,  nailing  it  to  his  cross.'" 


of  the  Gospel.  235 

Let  us  therefore  exalt  the  Saviour,  aud  be  ever  ready 
to  testify  our  obligations  to  him.  Let  us  shew  by  the 
love  and  honour  we  bear  him,  that  he  is  dear  to  our 
licartb ;  that  we  are  not  ashamed  of  him  ;  that  we  have 
learned  to  glory  even  in  his  reproach. 

How  unwise  are  they,  who  hope  for  pardon  and  sal- 
vation  on  the  ground  of  their  partial  and  defective  obe- 
dience to  the  law  of  God  ?  This  law  has  nothing  to  do 
with  pardon  ;  it  has  no  salvation  to  confer.  Condem- 
nation and  dea'.h  are  the  only  boons  it  has  to  bestow  on 
the  sinful.  Its  unvarying  language  from  the  moment 
in  which  time  first  began  to  the  present  hour  is  this, 
and  through  eternity  it  will  remain  the  same ;  ''  The 
soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die."  Have  you  then  never 
sinned  ?  Can  you  appeal  to  the  great  searcher  of  hearts, 
and  call  him  to  witness  that  you  have  never  left  un- 
done that,  which  he  has  commanded  ?  that  you  have 
never  done  that,  which  he  has  forbidden  ?  Can  you 
say  before  him,  that  no  one  action  of  your  life  has 
been  sinful  ?  that  no  word  of  your  lips  has  been  an 
idle  word?  that  no  thought  of  your  heart  has  been 
malicious,  envious,  or  unclean  ?  You  feel  that  you 
must  shrink"  from  such  an  appeal  as  this  ;  and  yet  the 
law  requires  this  appeal  from  you,  before  it  can  bless 
you.  It  can  sanction  and  reward  none  but  the  spot- 
less. The  angels  may  hope  in  it,  and  be  happy  ;  but 
the  sinner,  who  would  be  saved  and  blessed,  must 
seek  the  salvation  he  needs  far  from  this  law.  He  must 
flee  from  mount  Sinai  to  the  hill,  on  which  the  Son  of 
God  suffered  and  died.  He  must  see  that  blackness, 
and  darkness,  and  tempest  surround  the  one,  while 
mercy  and  grace  dwell  only  on  the  other. 

Renounce  then,  brethren,  the  hope  you  have  so  long 
and  so  fondly  cherished,  and  seek  another  and  a  better 


236  The  Glory 

hope  in  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God.  Pray 
for  an  humble  and  believing  heart ;  and  that,  which 
the  merit  of  all  the  angels  in  heaven  could  never  pur- 
chase, shall  be  freely  given  you  by  God.  Your  sins 
shall  be  blotted  out ;  you  shall  be  reconcikd  and 
brought  nigh  to  God  by  the  blood  of  Christ ;  you 
shall  be  saved  in  the  Lord  with  an  everlasting  salvation. 

How  Ignorant  are  they  of  the  gospel  of  Christ*  who 
make  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  the  object  of  their  scorn  ! 
The  words  before  us  plainly  imply,  that  from  the  mini- 
stration of  this  Spirit  the  gospel  of  Christ  derives  much 
of  its  glory  ;  and  yet  what  do  some  among  us  deem  this 
Spirit  ?  A  glorious  reality  ?  No ;  a  fancy,  a  dream,  a 
thing  to  be  scoffed  at,  ridiculed,  and  despised.  We 
acknowledge  here,  perhaps  that  its  sacred  influence  is 
a  reality  and  a  blessing,  and  we  profess  to  pray  for  it  j 
and  then  we  go  home  and  teach  our  children  and  our 
neighbours  to  deny  and  deride  it.  Now  what  is  this 
conduct,  but  wretched  hypocrisy  and  deplorable  folly  ? 
It  is  treating  wiih  contempt  that,  which  God  esteems 
glorious.  It  is  mocking  at  that,  which  is  the  greatest 
blessing  of  heaven.  Let  the  starving  man  scoff"  at  the 
food  offered  him  ;  let  the  dying  man  ridicule  the  only 
medicine  which  can  save  his  life  ;  let  the  sinking  mari- 
ner jest  with  the  rope  thrown  out  to  save  him  ;  but 
never,  brethren,  let  us  scoff'  at  the  influence  of  the 
Spirit.     Never  let  us  do  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace. 

How  anxiously  should  every  hearer  of  the  gospel  de- 
sire  that  it  may  be  made  the  min.stration  of  the  Spirit  to 
himself:  that  he  may  experience  its  softening  and  puri- 
fying influence  in  his  own  heart !  What  is  the  ministry 
of  the  gospel  without  this  influence  ?  An  empty  sound; 
a  cold,  lifeless,  powerless  thing.  But  what  is  it  with  it  ? 
The  power  and  the  wisdom  of  God  :  the  awakcncr  of 


of  the  Gospel,  ^37 

the  thoughtless,  the  sanctifier  of  the  ungodly,  the  com- 
forter of  the  sorrowful,  the  saviour  of  the  soul.  With- 
out this  influence,  we  shall  hear  the  gosptl,  trifle,  and 
perish.  With  this  influence,  we  shall  hear  it  and  live. 
There  is  no  blessing,  that  we  need  so  much  as  we  need 
this,  and  there  is  none,  which  God  is  more  ready  to 
give.  He  sits  on  a  throne  of  grace,  that  he  may  bestow 
it  on  the  sinful  children  of  men,  and  there  is  not  a  sin- 
ner upon  earth,  who  is  not  warranted  to  approach  his 
throne,  and  to  supplicate  it  at  his  hands.  May  we  have 
a  heart  to  seek  it !  May  we  be  enriched  by  its  fruits  ! 
May  our  experience  and  conduct  prove  the  gospel  to 
be  the  ministration  of  the  Spirit  and  of  righteousness, 
the  power  of  God  to  salvation. 


SERMON  XVI. 


THE  CONSTRAINING  INFLUENCE  OF  THE 
LOVE  OF  CHRIST. 


S   CORINTHIANS  V.     14,   1. '5. 

The  love  of  Chrint  constraineth  us,  because  ive  thus  judge,  that  if  one 
died  for  all,  then  w^re  all  dead  ;  and  that  he  died  for  all,  that  they, 
ivhich  lix'c,  should  n'4  hrnci forth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him, 
ivhich  died  for  them  and  rose  again. 


.1  HIS  text  may  be  considered  as  a  summary  of  Chris- 
tian faith  and  practice.  All  the  great  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel are  comprised  or  implied  in  it,  and  it  delineates  the 
practical  efftcts,  which  a  sincere  reception  of  these 
truths  never  fails  to  produce.  Happy  is  the  man,  who 
can  enter  into  the  meaning  of  these  words,  and  has  a 
heart- felt  knowledge  of  their  truth  ! 

I.  Among  the  many  subjects  of  consideration,  which 
the  text  suggests  to  us,  the  condition,  to  which  sin  has 
reduced  man,  appears  to  be  the  first. 

This  the  apostle  describes,  first,  as  a  condition  oj^ 
peculiar  wretchedness.   *'  if  one  died  for  all,"  says  he, 
'^  then  were  all  dead." 

Now  this  testimony  concerning  us,  sends  us  back  to 
the  scene  of  man's  first  transgression,  and  brings  to 
our  remembrance  the  sentence,  which  was  passed  on 
him  when  he  first  became  a  sinner.  "  in  the  day  that 
thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt  surely  die,"  was  the 
plain  declaration  of  God,  but  man  despised  it;  he  ate 
and  died.  He  did  the  dreadful  work,  which  his  enemy 


The  Constraining  I/ifluence,  &c.        S3 9 

had  given  him  to  do,  and  he  and  all  his  posterity  have 
received  its  wages.  We  are  dead. 

The  death,  which  sin  has  thus  brought  on  our  fallen 
race,  is  something  more  than  the  death  of  the  body  ;  it 
is  a  moral  death,  the  death  of  the  soul.  The  Scriptures 
often  describe  our  spiritual  state  under  this  figure,  and 
they  could  not  have  employed  a  more  natural  or  ex- 
pressive one.  It  is  a  figure  too,  which  is  easily  un- 
derstood. 

We  all  know  that  a  man,  when  dead,  is  incapable 
cither  of  action  or  enjoyment.  He  might  yesterday 
have  been  possessed  of  much  strength  of  body,  and 
have  piided  himself  on  great  energy  of  mind;  we 
might  have  seen  him  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  a 
thousand  blessings;  but  now  all  is  over.  The  objects 
which  busied  him,  and  the  things  he  delighted  in,  still 
remain  unchanged  around  him,  but  he  heeds  them  not, 
and  lies  unmoved  in  the  midst  of  them  all.  The  occu- 
pations of  the  world  cannot  reuse  him  to  action,  nor 
the  pleasures  of  life  wake  him  to  joy. 

It  is  thus  with  our  souls.  They  are  dead.  Thev  have 
lost  their  spiritual  life,  and  are  become  incipable  of 
spiritual  employments  and  delights.  Tiiey  still  retain 
all  their  original  faculties,  as  the  dead  body  retains  for 
a  season  its  original  members,  but  then  the  living  prin- 
ciple, which  once  animated  them  and  called  them  into 
exercise,  is  gone.  Heaven  and  hell  are  still  awful  reali- 
ties ;  the  one  is  as  desirable  as  ever,  and  the  other  as 
fearful ;  but  the  sc.ul  has  lost  its  feeling,  and  we  are 
become  alike  indifferent  to  both.  We  hear  of  them, 
and  we  believe  their  existence,  but  this  is  all.  They 
do  not  move  us ;  they  have  no  practical  influence  on 
our  minds. 

The  figure,  which  the  apostle  makes  use  of,  shews 


340  The  Constraining  Influence 

us  also  the  hopelessness  of  our  condition.  We  are  not 
dying,  but  dead.  We  are  not  like  a  tree,  which, 
though  withered,  may  be  brought  into  a  situation, 
where  the  sun  may  shine  and  the  rain  descend  on  it, 
and  revive  it.  We  are  rather  like  those  trees,  of  which 
it  is  said  that  they  are  twice  dead,  and  plucked  up  by 
the  roots.  The  spiritual  life  of  the  soul  is  utterly  ex- 
tinct. Matter  of  flict  proves  that  it  is  totally  gone.  We 
have  all  the  nieans  of  spiritual  restoration,  which  a  dy- 
ing sinner  could  ask  for.  We  have  sabbaths  and  bibles 
to  awaken  us;  we  have  ministers  to  quicken  us;  we 
have  afflictions  to  arouse  us ;  we  have  mercies  innu- 
merable to  affect  us.  And  what  eflPect  have  these  means 
of  grace  produced  ?  Do  the  dry  bones  live  ?  Are  our 
souls  quickened,  and  forced  to  think  and  to  feel  ?  Alas, 
no  !  We  are,  for  the  greater  part,  still  dead,  as  dead  to 
spiritual  and  eternal  things,  as  though  there  were  net  a 
sabbath  in  our  year,  nor  a  Bible  in  our  land. 

But  this  spiritual  insensibility  is  not  all,  which  the 
Scriptures  mean  by  the  death  of  the  soul.  It  is  an 
earnest  of  the  fruit  we  are  to  reap  from  our  transgres- 
sions, rather  than  the  fruit  itself.  There  is  a  day  ap- 
proaching, in  which  the  full  wages  of  sin  will  be  given 
us.  The  spiritual  death,  which  now  incapacitates  us  for 
the  services  and  enjoyments  of  heaven,  will  end  in 
eternal  death ;  not  in  annihilation  or  nothingness,  but 
in  a  living  death  ;  in  those  unknown  and  bitter  pains,  to 
which  no  earthly  sufferings  can  be  compared,  but  the 
pangs  of  the  dying.  These  will  at  once  call  into  action 
the  dormant  powers  of  the  soul.  These  will  employ  all 
its  strengthened  faculties  in  the  eternity  before  us,  and 
leave  not  a  moment  for  peace  or  for  joy. 

Observe  too,  that  it  is  not  some  nor  a  small  part  of 
mankind,  who  are  in  this  wretched  and  hopeless  con- 


of  the  Love  of  Christ.  S4l 

dition.  The  language  of  the  apostle  extends  to  all.  It 
includes  the  decent  and  the  virtuous,  as  well  as  the 
profligate  and  the  vicious;  the  man,  who  calls  himself 
after  the  name  of  Christ,  as  well  as  the  heathen,  who 
has  never  heard  of  his  name.  "  If  one  died  for  all,  then 
were  all  dead." 

The  death,  which  the  great  Governor  of  the  universe 
has  made  the  wages  of  sin,  is  not  the  consequence  of 
great  and  complicated  iniquities  only.  It  follows  sin  of 
every  description,  and  guilt  of  every  degree.  The  first 
act  of  transgression  we  ever  committed,  brought  this 
curse  upon  our  souls.;  so  that  the  condition  of  any  one 
of  us  is,  by  nature,  the  condition  of  us  all.  We  are  all 
criminals  condemned  to  die,  and  left  for  execution  ; 
respited  indeed  for  a  season  by  the  clemency  of  our 
Judge,  but  still  liable  every  moment  to  be  called  on  and 
hurried  to  judgment. 

II.  The  words  of  the  apostle  lead  us  to  notice,  se- 
condly, the  interposition  of  Christ  on  the  behalf  of  man. 
"  He  died  for  them,  and  rose  again." 

Observe  who  it  is,  that  is  here  said  to  have  had  com- 
passion on  man.  This  Christ  was  no  other  than  the 
eternal  ISon ;  the  Being  who  framed  the  world,  and 
built  the  skies,  and  gives  to  his  own  glorious  heaven, 
all  its  joys  and  splendours.  It  was  he,  who  had  existed 
from  ail  eternity  enthroned  in  light,  and  had  never 
known  in  that  eternity,  one  moment's  humiliation,  pain, 
or  sorrow. 

Observe  how  this  Being  interposed  for  man;  what 
he  did  for  him.  He  died.  And  how  much,  brethren,  is 
comprehended  in  this  expression  !  what  mysteries  of 
grace  and  love  !  If  we  would  see  something  of  its 
meaning,  we  must  lift  up  our  eyes  to  the  heavens 
above  us,  and  behold  the  Son  of  God  descending  for 

H  h 


242  The  Constraining  hifiiience 

the  first  time  from  his  throne  atnidst  wondering  angels, 
and  withdrawing  himself  from  their  sight.  We  must 
then  bring  down  our  e3es  back  again  to  the  earth,  and 
behold  the  high  and  lofty  One,  who  had  hitherto  inha- 
bited eternity,  dwelling  here  ;  appearing  on  our  own 
sinful  globe,  in  our  own  degraded  form.  He  is  seen  at 
first  lying  in  a  manger  as  a  helpless  babe.  A  few  years 
afterwards,  we  find  him  in  a  state  of  suffering  as  well 
as  of  degradation  ;  wandering  about  on  the  earth,  which 
his  hands  had  formed,  without  a  place  in  it  where  to 
lay  his  head ;  despised  and  rejected  by  all  who  behold 
him,  and  persecuted  by  thousands,  who  pour  contempt 
on  his  greatness,  and  thirst  for  his  blood.  And  how  did 
this  degradation  and  these  sufferings  end?  Did  he  at 
length  throw  off  the  form  which  concealed  his  divinit}', 
and  shew  himself  to  an  astonished  world  in  the  glory 
of  his  greatness?  No.  We  see  him  wounded  and 
bruised,  crucified  and  slain ;  ending  his  sorrows  as  a 
malefactor,  and  expiring  on  a  shameful  cross,  in  agonies 
unknown  to  the' children  of  men. 

Observe  further,  for  whom  this  death  was  endured. 
He  died  for  man.  Not  that  he  died  in  the  same  spiri- 
tual sense,  in  which  we  are  described  as  dead ;  or  that 
he  endured  those  pains  of  eternal  death,  which  are  the 
desert  of  our  sin.  It  was  a  natural  death  only,  which  he 
underwent;  and  though  his  soul  was  troubled  and 
racked  with  anguish  greater  than  man  could  have 
borne,  there  were  some  of  the  peculiar  torments  of  the 
accursed,  which  he  did  not  taste.  He  died  on  the  be- 
half, and  in  the  stead  of  man.  His  sufferings  effectually 
rescue  those,  who  believe  in  him,  from  the  punishment 
due  to  their  guilt,  and  are  therefore  spoken  of  in  the 
Scriptures  as  an  equivalent,  and  are  called  a  ransom 
and  a  price ;  but  we  must  not  give  a  pecuniary  mean- 


of  the  Love  of  Christ.  243 

ing  to  words,  which  were  designed  to  convey  only  a 
moral  signification.  We  must  not  infer  from  this  lan- 
guage that  Christ  suffered  on  the  cross  just  the  same 
agonies,  that  his  people  must  otherwise  have  suffered 
in  the  kingdom  of  despair.  The  Scriptures  no  where 
warrant  such  an  inference  ;  and  it  would  not  be  difficult 
to  shew  that  it  involves  in  it  at  least  a  moral,  if  not  a 
natural  impossibility.  It  becomes  us  to  speak  with  the 
greatest  caution  on  every  subject  connected  with  this 
great  mystery  of  godliness ;  but  we  may  perhaps  ven- 
ture to  assert,  that  if  only  one  sinner  was  to  have  been 
redeemed  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  it  would  have  pleased 
the  Father  to  have  laid  just  as  much  grief  on  his  be- 
loved Son,  as  he  laid  on  him  for  the  salvation  of  all  the 
world.  He  would  have  made  just  as  grand  a  display 
of  his  holiness,  and  as  fearful  a  manifestation  of  his 
justice. 

Hence  we  are  told  in  the  text  that  Christ  died yor  all; 
in  other  words,  that  "  he  made  on  the  cross  by  his  one 
oblation  of  himself  once  offered,  a  full,  perfect,  and  suf- 
ficient sacrifice,  oolation,  and  satisfaction  for  the  sins  of 
the  whole  world."  Not  that  we  are  to  infer  that  the  sins 
of  the  whole  world,  or  of  any  one  sinner  in  the  world, 
are  necessarily  pardoned  in  consequence  of  the  death 
of  Christ.  All  we  are  to  conclude  is  this ;  that  in  con- 
sideration of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  the  Almighty  can 
now  pirdon  every  sinner,  whom  his  infinite  goodness 
leads  him  to  pardon,  without  sullying  the  glory  of  his 
character  as  tlie  Governor  of  the  universe,  or  impairing 
the  authority  of  his  law. 

1  am  aware,  my  brethren,  that  it  has  been  asserted, 
and  by  some  who  proftss  to  have  peculiarly  clear  and 
exalted  ideas  of  the  glory  of  Christ,  that  the  atonement, 
which   he  has  offered   for  sin,   was  an  atonement  of 


S44  The  Constraining  Influence 

limited  worth ;  that  it  was  an  imperfect  sacrifice  ;  of 
sufficient  efficacy  indeed  to  enable  the  Ahnig-hty  to 
pardon  all  the  transgressions  of  a  few  sinners,  but 
insufficient  to  enable  him,  consistently  with  his  at- 
tributes, to  blot  out  the  iniquities  of  others.  No 
opinion  however  can  be  more  unscriptural  than  this, 
nor  more  dishonourable  to  the  Redeemer.  It  militates 
against  many  of  the  plainest  declarations  of  the  Bible  ; 
it  impeaches  the  veracity  of  him,  vv'ho  calls  a  whole 
world  of  sinners  to  the  cross  of  his  Son  ;  it  impairs  the 
glory  of  the  gospel ;  it  limits  the  Holy  One  of  Israel. 
The  humble  Christian,  he  whom  an  attachment  to  hu- 
man systems  has  not  yet  corrupted  from  the  simplicity 
that  is  in  Christ,  shrinks  from  an  opinion  so  bold  and 
strange,  and  wonders  that  any  of  his  fellow  Christians 
can  have  so  faint  a  sense  of  the  dignity  of  their  Re- 
deemer, as  to  allow  it  for  one  moment  to  be  harboured 
in  their  breasts.  He  presumes  not  to  mark  out  the  men, 
who  will  be  savingly  benefitted  by  the  death  of  his 
Lord ;  but  he  knows  that  his  blood  cleanseth  from  all 
sin;  that  it  is  able  to  justify  the  ways  of  Jehovah  to 
his  creatures,  though  he  were  to  pardon  and  save  ten 
thousand  sinful  vvorlds. 

"  What  then,"  it  may  be  asked,  ^^  becomes  of  those 
declarations  of  Scripture,  which  seem  to  imply  that  it 
is  only  a  chosen  people  on  the  earth,  who  will  be  made 
partakers  of  the  saving  efficacy  of  the  cross?  Are  they 
to  be  blotted  out  of  our  Bibles  ;  or  are  we  to  wrest  them 
from  their  meaning  and  explain  them  away  before  we 
receive  them  ?"  In  no  wise.  All  the  declarations  of  the 
Bible  are  the  faithful  and  true  sayings  of  God ;  and 
none  of  them,  however  oflfensive  they  may  be  to  human 
pride,  are  to  be  disbelieved  or  qualified  by  man.  The 
doctrine,  which  ascribes  unlimited,  infinite  efficacy  to 


of  the  Love  of  Christ.  54-5 

the  atonement  of  Christ,  is  not  opposed  to  one  of  these 
declarations.  It  is  perfectly  consistent  with  them  all : 
with  those,  which  tells  us  that  the  fluck  of  Christ  is  a 
little  flock  chosen  out  of  the  world ;  as  well  as  with 
those,  which  call  on  all  the  ends  of  the  eartii  to  look 
to  the  cross  and  be  saved. 

It  is  plain  that  there  may  be  treasures  in  the  mines 
of  the  earth  sufficient  to  enrich  all,  who  live  on  it;  and 
yet  but  few  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  may  be  en- 
riched by  these  treasures.  And  is  it  not  equally  possi- 
ble that  there  may  be  undiscovered  riches  in  Christ,  a 
treasure  of  grace  in  an  infinite  God,  sufficient  to  save 
a  universe  of  sinners,  though  many  are  sufl:lred  to  de- 
spise his  salvation  and  perish  ?  Is  the  balm  of  Gilead 
unable  to  heal,  because  the  wounded  sufferer  refuses  to 
have  it  applied  ?  Shall  the  deep  and  overflowing  river 
of  life  be  said  to  be  empty,  because  we  refuse  to  drink 
of  its  waters  and  perish  with  thirst  ?  Is  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel  to  be  limited,  because  his  creatures  pour  con- 
tempt on  the  glories  he  offers  them,  and  choose  instead 
of  them  the  pleasures  and  wages  of  sin  ?  As  well  might 
a  man  contend  that  the  sun  has  ceased  to  shine  around 
him,  because  he  closes  his  eyes  against  its  light ;  or 
that  food  is  unable  to  support  his  body,  because  he  re- 
fuses to  receive  it.  The  sufficiency  of  a  remedy  to  re- 
move an  evil  is  one  thing  j  the  application  of  tlie  reme- 
dy to  that  evil  is  another.  The  death  of  Christ  is  able 
to  save  every  sinner,  but  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  the 
contrite  and  believing  sinner  only  should  be  interested 
in  its  saving  power;  therefore  the  penitent  believer  only 
is  saved. 

Christ  died  for  all ;  he  made  on  the  cross  so  awful  a 
display  of  the  divine  holiness,  that  the  Most  High  can 
now  pardon  sin  wherever  he  finds  it,  without  militating; 


346  The  Conslraimng  Influence 

against  the  honour  or  authority  of  his  moral  govern- 
ment. This  is  the  doctrine  taught  in  text.  In  dispens- 
ing his  mercy,  the  Almighty  passes  by  the  angels  that 
sinned  ;  he  leaves  them  as  awful  monuments  of  his  jus- 
tice, while  he  sets  his  love  on  a  people  on  the  earth,  and 
carries  them  to  heaven  as  monuments  of  his  redeeiming 
grace.  He  chooses  them  in  Christ  out  of  mankind,  and 
he  brings  them  by  Christ  to  everlasting  salvation  as 
vessels  mjde  to  honour.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  sove- 
reign grace.  Both  these  doctrines  are  plainly  taught  us 
in  the  Scriptures  ;  tiiey  are  both  the  doctrines  of  our 
church.  Whatever  contrariety  we  may  see  between 
them,  he,  who  wrote  the  Scriptures,  sees  none.  He 
has  left  them  upon  record  in  his  word,  and  he  calls 
upon  us  to  receive  and  believe  them ;  not  to  contend 
for  them  as  the  tenets  of  a  sect  or  the  badges  of  a  party, 
but  to  embrace  them  as  the  faithful  sayings  of  God ; 
not  to  view  them  merely  as  subjects  ol  speculation  and 
controversy,  but  as  designed  to  produce  a  practical  and 
holy  effect  on  our  hearts  and  lives. 

But  the  interposition  of  Christ  on  the  behalf  of  man, 
was  not  con(ii)ed  to  dying  for  him.  lie  rose  again.  Had 
Christ  only  died  for  us,  his  death  would  not  have  mate- 
rially profited  us,  at  least  it  would  not  have  effectually 
rescued  us  from  our  lost  condition.  It  might  have 
saved  us  from  eternal  death,  but  we  should  still  have 
been  spiritually  dead.  It  might  have  procured  heaven 
for  us,  but  we  should  have  been  incapable  of  sharing 
in  its  services  and  joys.  The  blessed  Jesus  therefore, 
after  he  had  opened  a  way  for  the  salvation  of  his 
church  by  his  death  on  the  cross,  began  to  prepare  and 
qualify  his  ciuirch  for  the  enjoyment  of  that  salvation. 
He  rose  again  to  complete  the  work,  which  he  had  be- 
gun.   He  returned  to  heaven  in  the  same  character,  in 


of  the  Love  of  Christ,  247 

which  he  left  it,  as  the  Saviour  of  sinners.  Nearly  two 
thousand  years  have  passed  since  he  gave  up  the  ghost  on 
Calvary,  but  not  a  moment  has  passed,  in  which  he  has 
not  been  employed  in  the  salvation  of  his  church.  God 
exalted  him  to  be  a  Saviour,  and  he  is  faithful  to  the 
office  he  has  received.  He  delights  in  communicating 
to  sinners  the  spiritual  life,  which  they  have  lost  ;  in 
calling  them  out  of  the  world,  convincing  them  of  sin, 
leading  them  to  his  cross,  comforting  them  in  their  sor- 
rows, making  them  meet  for  their  eternal  inheritance, 
and  leading  them  by  a  way  which  they  know  not,  to  the 
kingdom  he  has  purchased  for  them. 

III.  The  next  subject  of  consideration  sugsj^ested  by 
the  text  is  the  principle  or  motive^  from  which  the  inter- 
position of  Christ  on  our  behalf  proceeded.  The  apostle 
traces  it  in  the  text  to  love.  "  The  love  of  Christ  con- 
straineth  us."  It  was  not  an  act  of  justice.  VVe  had  no 
claim  whatsoever  on  the  compassion  of  Christ.  Instead 
of  expecting  him  to  come  down  from  heaven  as  a  Sa- 
viour to  die  for  us,  we  have  reason  to  wonder  that  he 
had  so  long  delayed  to  come  down  as  a  Judge  to  con- 
demn, and  as  an  Avenger  to  destroy  us. 

Neither  did  his  interposition  proceed  from  a  regard 
to  his  own  honour  only.  He  was  glorious  in  holiness 
and  fearful  in  praises  long  before  we  were  created;  and 
as  for  the  lustre,  which  he  has  shed  around  his  throne 
by  the  redemption  of  man,  there  were  other  sinners  in 
the  universe,  for  whom  he  could  have  died,  and  whose 
salvation  would  perhaps  have  shewn  forth  his  praise  as 
gloriously  as  ours.  He  has  never  yet  needed  the  aid  of 
any  of  his  creatures  to  make  him  a  glorious  God. 

It  was  love  alone,  free  and  unmerited  love,  vvhicli 
brought  Christ  down  to  the  earth.  It  was  love,  which 
caused  him  to  dwell  on  this  accursed  world  as  a  man  of 


248  The  Constraining  Influence 

sorrows,  and  to  take  so  large  a  share  of  its  degradation 
and  miseries.  It  was  love,  which  made  him  so  willing 
to  be  despibcd  and  rtjcctcd  by  men,  and  to  be  bruised 
and  put  to  grief  by  his  God.  It  was  love,  which  ena- 
bled him  to  bear  the  exceeding  great  trouble  of  his 
soul  in  the  garden,  and  the  racking  agonies  of  the 
cross.  All  that  he  suffered  for  us  when  on  earth,  and 
all  that  he  has  been  since  doing  for  us  in  heaven,  he 
has  done  and  suffered  solely  for  this  one  reason,  because 
he  loved  us. 

This  is  the  divine  attribute,  to  which  all  the  bless- 
ings of  redemption  must  be  traced.  This  is  the  attri- 
bute, which  shines  with  the  brightest  lustre  in  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ.  The  work  of  redemption  reveals  to  us 
treasures  of  wisdom  and  power.  Matchless  wisdom  de- 
vised its  stupendous  plan,  and  infinite  power  executed 
it;  but  it  was  love,  which  called  this  wisdom  and  this 
power  into  exercise.  It  was  love,  which  made  these 
attributes  so  glorious  to  God,  and  the  instruments  of 
such  rich  blessings  to  man. 

IV.  But  although  the  interposition  of  Christ  on  our 
behalf  proceeded  solely  from  love,  it  was  nevertheless 
designed  to  answer  a  great  and  gracious  purpose.  The 
apostle  accordingly  points  out  to  us  in  the  text,  the  end, 
which  Christ  had  in  view  in  dying  and  rising  agai?i  for 
man.  It  was  this;  '<  that  they,  which  live,  should  not 
henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him,  which 
died  lor  them  and  rose  again." 

This  language  plainly  implies  that  by  nature  we  are 
all  living  to  ourselves ;  that  our  own  will  is  the  law  of 
our  actions,  and  our  own  gratification,  our  own  in- 
terest or  pleasure,  the  end  of  them.  It  is  not  thus  with 
some  of  the  rational  creatures  of  God,  neither  was  it 
^dways  thus  with  man.     The  selfish  and  independent 


of  the  Love  of  Christ,  "M9 

principle  within  us  is  one  of  the  sad  fruits  of  our  de- 
pravity. It  is  a  part  of  that  spiritual  death,  that  aliena- 
tion from  God,  which  sin  has  spread  over  the  soul,  and 
which  nothing  but  a  new  birth  to  righteousness  can 
remove.  It  is  directly  opposed  to  our  happiness,  for  all 
the  happiness  of  the  creature  is  derived  from  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Creator,  and  all  his  blessedness  flows  from  a 
conformity  to  the  divine  law  and  will.  It  is  also  in  the 
higiiest  degree  hateful  to  God.  We  shew  by  it  that  we 
do  not  consider  him  as  having  any  claim  on  us  or  our 
services.  It  is  an  open  denial  of  his  authority  as  the 
Sovereign  of  the  universe,    it  is  an  act  of  rebellion. 

Now  the  design  of  Christ  in  dying  for  rnan  was  to 
root  out  this  selfish  principle  from  his  heart ;  to  save 
him  from  it ;  to  bring  the  rebel  back  again  to  the  for- 
saken service  of  his  heavenly  King.  The  gospel  finds 
us  in  a  state  of  bondage  to  Satan,  and  it  delivers  us  from 
it ;  but  it  does  not  leave  us  lawless  ;  it  does  not  make 
us  our  own  masters.  It  sanctions  and  strengthens  all 
the  original  obligations,  which  we  are  under  as  crea- 
tures to  serve  the  God  who  formed  us,  and  it  gives 
him  a  new  and  more  endearing  claim  to  our  services. 
He  has  bought  us  with  a  price  ;  he  therefore  deems  us 
his  own,  and  calls  upon  us  to  glorify  him  in  our  body 
and  in  our  spirits,  which  are  his.  He  points  to  the 
cross  and  the  tomb,  and  tells  us  that  it  was  *'  for  this 
end  Christ  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived,  that  he 
might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  the  living." 

Shall  we  then  hesitate  to  admit  the  lawfulness  of  a 
title,  obtained  by  so  much  degradation  and  suffering? 
Shall  we  rob  the  blessed  Jesus  of  the  purchase  of  his 
blood  ?  Shall  we  keep  back  from  its  proprietor  so 
worthless  a  possession,  after  it  has  been  purchased  by 
him  at  so  costly  a  price  ?    No.     We  are  not  our  own. 

li 


^50  The  Constvaiiiing  Injliience 

We  cannot  be  our  own.  If  we  have  ever  tasted  of  re- 
deeming grace,  we  bhall  not  even  wish  to  be  our  own. 
As  for  living  to  ourselves  or  to  the  world,  the  very 
thought  will  be  our  grief  and  our  shame.  It  will  be  the 
first  wish  of  our  heart  to  be  entirely  devoted  to  God  ; 
to  consecrate  to  him  every  action  of  our  life,  and  every 
thought  of  our  heart ;  to  give  to  him  every  moment  as 
it  flies. 

V.  Such  was  the  end,  v.hich  Christ  had  in  view  in 
dying  for  man ;  but  has  this  end  been  answered?  Have 
the  sinners,  whom  he  has  redeemed,  ceased  to  live  unto 
themselves?  and  are  they  really  living  unto  him,  which 
died  for  them  and  rose  again?  The  text  answers  this 
enquiry,  and  reminds  us,  lastly,  of  the  influence,  which 
the  inttrrposition  of  Christ  on  the  behalf  of  man  has  on 
his  people  ;  of  the  effect,  which  his  dying  love  produces 
in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  those,  who  really  believe  in 
him.  The  apostle  says  that  it  constraineth  them.  "  The 
love  of  Christ  constraineth  us." 

There  is  a  meaning  and  a  force  in  this  expression, 
which  it  is  not  easy  to  explain.  It  signifies  to  bear 
away,  to  carry  on  with  the  force  and  rapidity,  with 
which  a  resistless  torrent  hurries  along  whatever  it 
meets  with  in  its  course.  As  the  word  is  used  here,  it 
implies  that  the  love,  which  Christ  has  manifested  for 
man,  has  a  mighty  and  irresistible  influence  on  the 
hearts  of  his  servants ;  that  it  fills  their  whole  soul,  and 
forces  them,  as  it  were,  to  obey  its  dictates. 

It  intimates  that  it  lays  hold  of  their  affections  ;  that 
it  touches  their  hearts,  and  calls  into  the  liveliest  exer- 
cise every  feeling  of  their  souis.  It  has  indeed  been 
contended  that  the  religion  of  Christ  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  affections ;  that  to  look  on  his  cross  and  be 
moved  by  the  sight,  is  enthusiasm  and  weakness ;  that 


of  the  Love  of  Christ.  351 

a  sinner,  who  is  going  into  eternity,  ought  to  hear  the 
tidings  that  hell  is  escaped  and  heaven  won,  with  as  ^ 
much  indifference  and  coohiess,  as  a  man  at  his  ease 
would  examine  a  mathematical  problem.  But  what  are 
we  to  think  of  such  an  opinion  as  this  *?  In  what  light 
are  we  to  regard  the  men,  who  maintain  it?  Shall  we 
say  that  they  are  sober-minded,  rational  Christians? 
Reason  and  Christianity  disclaim  the  alliance.  They 
tell  us  that  that  religion  only  is  rational,  which  calls  into 
action  the  hopes  and  the  fears  of  a  m.an ;  and  that  that 
Christianity  only  is  genuine,  which  fills  the  heart  with 
feeling,  and  puts  into  it  a  love,  which  many  waters 
cannot  quench,  nor  many  floods  drown.  He,  who  can 
look  with  cold  indifference  on  the  blessed  Jesus  lying 
on  the  ground  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  crying 
out  in  the  extremity  of  his  anguish  for  deliverance 
from  death ;  he,  who  can  see  him  patiently  bearing  his 
cross,  and  quietly  yielding  his  sacred  body  to  be  tor- 
tured on  it ;  he,  who  can  hear  him  uttering  his  myste- 
rious complaint  to  his  Father,  and  piercing  the  air  with 
his  dying  groans  ;  he,  who  can  contemplate  such  a 
scene  as  this,  and  remember  that  all  these  sufferings 
were  endured  for  his  worthless,  rebellious  soul,  and 
yet  remain  unaffected  at  the  thought; — such  a  man, 
brethren,  may  be  a  decorous,  an  upright,  a  useful  man, 
but  he  is  not  a  Christian.  He  may  have  a  form  of  god- 
liness, but  he  knows  no  more  of  its  power  than  the 
ground  he  treads  on.  He  may  have  a  high  reputation 
for  wisdom  in  the  world,  but  in  the  estimation  of  God 
he  is  a  very  fool. 

But  while  we  do  not  undervalue  lively  affections  in 
religion,  let  us  not  overrate  them.  It  is  possible  for  the 
heart  to  be  affected  by  the  love  of  Christ  in  dying  for 
sinners,  just  as  it  is  affected  by  the  contemplation  of 


252  The  Constraining  Influence 

any  other  noble  and  generous  act,  and  yet  the  heart  re- 
main a  stranger  to  itself  and  to  God.  The  feeling  may 
be  strong,  but  it  may  be  merely  a  natural,  and  not  a 
spiritual  feeling.  There  may  be  no  more  religion  in  it, 
than  in  the  feelings  which  are  excited,  and  in  the  tears 
which  are  drawn  forth,  by  some  of  the  narratives  of 
history,  or  the  pictures  of  imagination. 

Hence  we  must  observe,  further,  that  the  love  of 
Christ  influences  the  conduct  of  his  servants,  as  well  as 
excites  their  affections,  it  not  only  makes  them  feel,  it 
makes  them  act  for  Christ.  It  teaches  them  to  do  good, 
as  well  as  to  praise  and  to  pray.  It  changes  their  life, 
as  well  as  their  heart.  There  was  a  time,  when  they 
thought  that  religion  required  of  them  only  a  certain 
degree  of  devotedne^s  to  God.  They  thought  it  possi- 
ble to  serve  him  too  well,  as  well  as  to  love  him  too 
much.  But  now  nothing  appears  too  afflictive  to  be 
endured  for  his  sake  ;  no  act  of  self-denial  too  painful 
to  be  undertaken ;  no  labour  of  love  too  arduous  to  be 
performed.  They  were  before  cold  and  formal  wor- 
shippers of  the  Lord,  or  at  best  lukewarm  and  hesita- 
ting ])rofessors  of  the  gospel ;  but  now  the  love  of  God 
has  been  shed  abroad  in  their  hearts,  and  gives  a  deci- 
sion, a  life,  and  a  soul  to  their  religion.  It  has  made 
them  active  Christians,  decided  Christians,  laborious 
Christians.  There  is  no  more  halting  between  two  opi- 
nions ;  no  more  striving  to  serve  God  and  mammon; 
no  more  conferring  with  flesh  and  blood.  There  is  an 
open  avowal  of  their  attachment  to  their  crucified 
Lord;  a  glorying  in  his  reproach;  a  holy  reverence 
for  his  laws ;  a  willingness  to  spend  and  be  spent  for 
his  sake. 

Will  any  one  say  that  these  things  are  not  to  be 
found  in  tlie  world?  that  the  love  of  Christ  never  has 


of  the  Love  of  Christ.  253 

produced,  and  never  will  produce  such  effects  as  these  ? 
Look  at  the  history  of  the  man,  who  wrote  the  words 
in  the  text.  Follow  him  through  the  course  of  his  life. 
Contemplate  the  sacritices  he  made,  the  trials  he  en- 
dured, the  labours  of  love  he  performed.  Behold  him 
suffering  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  taking  the  loss  with 
joy.  Hear  him  singing  at  midnight  in  a  prison  the 
praises  of  his  God.  View  him  boldly  preaching  Christ 
in  his  chains.  Trace  him  through  his  scourgings,  ship- 
wrecks, and  perils  ;  hear  him  exclaiming  in  the  midst 
of  them  all,  "  None  of  these  things  move  me  ;  neither 
count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself."  Behold  the  man  ; 
and  see  what  a  triumph  for  the  gospel  was  here  !  And 
what  was  it,  that  obtained  this  glorious  triumph?  What 
made  Saul  of  Tarsus  so  noble  a  spectacle  to  angels  and 
to  men  ?  It  was  love  ;  love  for  the  Saviour,  who  had 
died  for  him,  and  the  God,  who  had  redeemed  him. 
And  is  the  power  of  this  principle  lost  ?  No.  It  is 
reigning  in  the  hearts  of  thousands  around  us,  and  pro- 
ducing the  most  blessed  effects  in  a  thousand  places, 
where  we  little  suppose  it  to  exist.  We  may  know 
nothing  of  the  men,  whom  it  governs  ;  and  may  hear 
nothing  of  their  zeal  for  the  Lord.  They  may  never  be 
found  in  the  societies,  in  which  we  delight ;  and  may 
be  treated  by  us  and  our  associates,  as  the  very  refuse 
of  mankind,  and  the  offbcouring  of  all  things ;  but  the 
influence  of  the  love  of  Christ  is  felt,  in  all  its  energy, 
in  their  houses  and  cottages  ;  the  voice  of  prayer  and  of 
praise,  of  peace  and  of  joy,  is  heard  in  their  habitations. 
There  the  power  of  religion  is  seen,  and  there  the 
works  of  righteousness  abound.  There  man  is  holy 
and  happy,  and  there  God  is  worshipped  and  feared. 

These  then  are  the  principal  subjects  of  meditation 
afforded  us  in  the  text; — the  wretched  and  hopeless 


S54  The  Constraining  Inftuence 

condition,  to  which  sin  has  reduced  man  ;  the  interpo- 
sition of  Christ  in  his  behalf;  the  principle  or  motive, 
from  which  this  interposition  proceeded ;  the  end, 
which  Christ  had  in  view  in  it ;  and  the  influence, 
which  it  exercises  on  the  liearts  and  lives  of  his  fol- 
lowers. 

The  first  practical  inference  suggested  to  us  by  the 
consideration  of  these  subjects  is  this  ;  the  conduct  of 
a  Christian  is  closely  connected  with  his  principles^  with 
his  religious  opinions,  with  the  doctrines  he  believes. 
The  text  represents  it  as  influenced  by  the  judgment 
which  he  forms  of  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel,  and 
produced  by  the  reception  which  he  gives  to  these  doc- 
trines in  his  mind.  And  yet  it  is  often  asserted  that  it 
matters  not  what  doctrines  we  believe,  nor  what  creed 
v/e  embrace,  so  that  our  dispositions  are  holy  and  our 
lives  sober  and  righteous.  In  one  sense  the  assertion 
is  true.  We  admit  that  holy  dispositions  and  a  godly 
life,  constitute  the  sum  and  substance  of  genuine  re- 
ligion ;  that  the  man,  in  whom  these  are  found,  is  a 
servant  of  God  and  an  heir  of  heaven.  But  how  arc 
these  holy  dispositions  to  be  produced  ?  How  is  the 
life  to  be  made  thus  conformable  to  the  righteous  law 
of  God  ?  This  is  not  a  trifling  work.  These  effects  are 
too  great  to  be  produced  without  an  adequate  cause. 
Where  then  shall  we  look  for  this  cause  ?  Can  we  find 
it  in  carelessness,  in  ignorance,  in  unbelief?  No.  It 
can  be  found  only  in  a  right  knowledge  of  God  and  of 
ourselves  ;  in  a  simple  and  heart-felt  belief  of  the  Bible  ; 
in  an  unfeigned  reception  of  the  great  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel. Right  dispositions  and  right  conduct  can  proceed 
only  from  right  principles.  These  are  the  springs  of 
action  ;  and  as  long  as  we  are  destitute  of  these,  neither 
our  tempers  nor  our  conduct  will  bear  to  be  tried  by 
the  standard  of  God's  holy  law. 


of  the  Love  of  Christ,  S55 

Tlie  reason,  why  many  of  us  hold  the  great  truths 
of  the  gospel  in  such  low  estimation,  is  simply  this  ; 
we  are  not  striving  to  do  the  will  of  God  ;  we  are  not 
practical  Christians  ;  we  are  indulging  unhallowed  dis- 
positions, and  living  careless  and  worldly  lives.  We 
desire  not  the  fruit,  and  the  consequence  naturally  is, 
we  pour  contempt  on  the  tree,  which  produces  it.  The 
Christian,  on  the  contrary,  highly  values  these  doc- 
trines, because  he  has  been  taught  their  practical  effi- 
cacy. He  desires  to  be  holy,  and  he  therefore  prizes 
the  springs  and  the  means  of  holiness.  He  has  felt 
the  constraining  influence  of  the  love  of  Christ ;  and  as 
long  as  he  knows  that  his  happiness  is  centred  in  the 
service  and  enjoyment  of  his  God,  he  will  hold  fast  the 
profession  of  his  faith ;  he  will  rejoice  in  the  glorious 
gospel  of  the  blessed  God. 

The  text  leads  us  also  to  infer,  that  they  are  not 
Christians,  whom  the  love  of  Christ  does  not  influence. 
They  ma}^  call  themselves  after  the  name  of  the  Sa- 
viour, who  bled  for  them,  but  they  have  not  the  dis- 
tinguishing characteristic  of  the  people,  who  belong  to 
him ;  they  are  not  constrained  by  his  love  ;  they  are 
not  living  unto  him,  which  died  for  them.  This  de- 
votedness  to  Christ  is  essential  to  the  Christian  cha- 
racter.. Nothing  can  supply  the  place  of  it ;  no  cor- 
rect system  of  opinions  ;  no  zeal  for  doctrines ;  no 
lively  feelings ;  no  tears  nor  prayers.  As  long  as  we 
stop  short  of  this,  we  are  destitute  of  spiritual  life;  we 
are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins.  ^'  Every  one  that 
loveth,"  says  Saint  John,  "  is  born  of  God  and  knoweih 
God  ;  he  that  loveth  not  knoweth  not  God."  The  end 
of  Christ  in  dying  for  us  cannot  be  defeated.  If  throngli 
faith  we  are  become  savingly  interested  in  his  death, 
the  effect  of  the  love,  which  he  manifested  in  it,  is  cer- 


356  The  Constraining  Influence 

tain.  We  are  affected  by  it.  We  are  constrained  by- 
it.  We  are  alive  unto  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Lord. 

Are  we  then  thus  influenced  by  the  love  of  the  dying 
Jesus?  We  may  admire  the  character,  which  this  love 
has  a  tendency  to  form  ;  we  may  delight  in  tracing  its 
effects  in  the  apostles  and  martyrs  of  the  primitive 
church ;  we  may  be  gratified  by  contempLiting  its 
quickening  and  transforming  efficacy  in  those  around 
us ;  but  these  are  not  the  turning  points.  Is  my  own 
soul  affected  ?  Does  the  love  of  Christ  force  my  own 
hard  heart  to  feel,  and  my  own  dry  eyes  to  wet-p? 
Have  I  experienced  in  my  own  breast  its  enlivening, 
warming,  constraining  power?  fias  it  sanctified  my 
dispositions,  and  changed  my  conduct  ?  Am  J  making 
the  glory  of  my  Saviour  the  great  business  of  my  life  ? 
Are  his  people  dear  to  me  ?  Do  1  make  his  cause  my 
cause  ?  In  the  midst  of  my  many  infirmities  and  sins, 
is  my  family,  are  my  neighbours  constrained  to  see 
that  I  am  not  acting,  as  though  1  deemed  myself  my 
own,  but  as  though  1  regarded  myself  the  servant  of  a 
holy  Redeemer,  who  has  bougin  me  with  his  blood  ? 
Happy  are  we,  brethren,  if  we  can  press  home  such 
questions  as  these  to  our  hearts,  and  have  the  testimony 
of  our  conscience  that  our  Christian  profession  will  bear 
to  be  tried  by  them.  These  are  the  things,  which  ac- 
company salvation.  These  are  the  things,  which  will 
bring  a  man  peace  at  the  last,  and  bear  the  fiery  trial 
of  death  and  of  judgment. 

The  words  of  the  apostle  remind  us,  further,  of  the 
superior  excellence  of  the  religion  of  Christ ;  its  excel- 
lence, not  only  as  it  saves  the  soul,  but  as  it  affords  to 
man  a  new,  a  nobler,  and  a  more  powerful  moiive  to 
obedience.  This  motive  is  love,  love  to  a  dying  Lord ; 


of  the  Love  of  Christ.  257 

a  motive  unheard  of  in  the  world  before  the  publication 
of  the  {gospel  of  Christ.  And  what  motive  can  be 
nobler  ?  It  appeals  to  the  finest  feelings  of  the  soul, 
to  the  most  generous  emotions  of  the  heart.  As  for  the 
efficacy  of  this  motive,  it  is  stronger  than  that  of  all 
other  motives  combined.  The  world  has  heard  for  ages 
of  the  beauty  of  virtue,  and  the  deformity  of  vice. 
The  hopes  and  the  fears  of  mankind  have  been  ap- 
pealed to  by  promises  of  reward  and  threatenings  of 
punishment  in  eternity.  And  what  has  been  the  result  ? 
Men  have  lived,  for  the  greater  part,  just  as  they  would 
have  lived  if  these  things  had  never  been  heard  of. 
Here  and  there  indeed  an  exterior  appearance  of  vir- 
tue has  been  produced ;  even  a  form  of  godliness  has 
been  put  on,  and  man  has  become  superstitious  and 
wretched.  But  has  the  heart  been  touched?  Have 
the  sins  of  the  heart  been  restrained  ?  Has  passion 
been  subdued  ?  Has  pride  been  rooted  out  ?  Has  self- 
ishness been  overcome  ?  Has  there  been  a  single  hu- 
man being  prevailed  on  by  these  motives  to  live  no 
longer  unto  himself,  but  unto  the  God  who  created 
him  ?  Not  one.  it  is  the  love  of  Christ  only,  which  can 
effect  such  a  work,  and  win  such  a  triumph  as  this. 
It  is  the  love  of  Christ  only,  which  can  reach  the  heart 
of  a  man  ;  root  out  its  sins ;  and  give  its  affections  to 
God.  Our  duty  tiien  is  pUiin.  It  is  to  get  the  love  of 
Christ  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts,  and  when  we  have 
received  this  gift,  to  seek  that  it  may  be  preserved  to 
us  and  increased. 

We  profess  to  lament  our  selfishness,  brethren,  and 
to  mourn  over  our  unfruitfulness  and  coldness.  Here 
then  is  a  remedy  provided.  Here  is  a  principle,  which 
will  make  our  hearts  burn  within  us,  and  brinq;  forth 
in  our  lives  all  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit.    If  your  profes- 

Kk 


25S  The  Constraining  Influence 

sions  and  sorrow  are  sincere,  seek  this  principle.  Have 
recourse  to  this  remedy.  Apply  for  a  sense  of  this  love 
at  the  throne  of  grace.  Contemplate  the  riches  of  the 
Saviour's  grace,  his  life  of  suffering  and  his  death  of 
anguish,  that  it  may  be  poured  out  on  your  hearts. 
You  cannot  obtain  a  more  useful  gift  from  heaven,  nor 
a  sweeter  comforter.  It  will  enable  you  to  face  any 
difficulties,  to  weather  any  storms,  and  to  endure  any 
sufferings,  so  that  your  God  may  be  honoured  and  the 
name  of  your  Saviour  praised.  It  will  overcome  ini- 
quity and  lusts  within  you  ;  it  will  render  even  self- 
denial  easy  ;  it  will  make  your  duty  your  delight.  It 
will  soothe  your  soul  in  affliction,  strengthen  it  in  trials, 
cheer  it  in  death,  and  exj)and  it  with  joy  in  eternity. 

The  text  also  plainly  accounts  for  the  peculiar  con- 
duct of  Christians.  In  whatever  age  or  country  he  may 
live,  the  man,  who  is  a  Christian  indeed,  will  always 
have  something  peculiar  in  his  conduct.  There  will 
be  an  outward,  as  well  as  an  inward  difference  between 
him  and  others.  Now  this  difference  cannot  be  con- 
cealed from  the  world.  It  will  be  marked  and  visible, 
and  the  men  of  the  world  will  be  sure  to  discover  it. 
The  most  ignorant  and  vicious  of  them  will  be  offended, 
and  perhaps  incensed  by  it.  They  will  impute  it  to 
hypocrisy,  to  enthusiasm,  to  fanaticism;  to  every  source, 
which  they  deem  dishonourable  and  base.  Others  will 
view  it  with  a  mixture  of  pity  and  admiration.  They 
cannot  altogether  approve  it ;  they  are  forced  to  ascribe 
it  in  some  degree  to  mental  weakness  ;  but  they  are  at 
the  same  time  convinced  that  the  men  are  sincere  and 
in  earnest,  and  that  they  are  acting  under  the  influence 
of  some  secret  and  powerful  motive  peculiar  to  them- 
selves. They  cannot  ascertain  the  nature  of  this  mo- 
tive.   They  are  sure  it  exists,  but  it  baffles  all  their 


of  the  Loxe  of  Christ,  259 

efforts  to  discover  and  comprehend  it.  Now  the  text 
points  out  the  secret  spring  of  the  Christian's  conduct 
and  solves  the  difficuhy.  Indeed  it  was  written  for  this 
very  purpose. 

Influenced  by  the  arts  of  the  false  apostles,  who  by 
tolerating  their  corruptions  had  introduced  themselves 
into  their  church  and  obtained  their  confidence,  some 
of  the  Corinthians  began  to  cool  in  their  attachment  to 
their  early  and  faithful  teacher.  His  earnestness  in  re- 
buking iniquity  offended  them,  and  they  first  ceased 
to  love,  and  then  proceeded  to  censure  him.  The 
character  of  Paul  was  not  however  a  very  vulnerable 
character.  They  could  not  accuse  him  of  hypocrisy. 
His  spotless  integrity  and  disinterested  zeal  would  have 
at  once  repelled  such  an  accusation.  They  charged 
him  therefore  with  being  beside  himself;  vvith  acting 
under  the  influence  of  enthusiasm  and  madness.  The 
apostle  did  not  directly  deny  the  charge.  With  an 
address  and  dignity  altogether  his  own,  he  seems  to 
admit  it,  and  then  traces  the  conduct,  that  filled  them 
with  so  much  wonder  and  displeasure,  to  a  cause,  which 
at  once  vindicated  his  earnestness  and  reproved  their 
lukewarmness.  This  was  the  answer,  with  which  the 
noble  apostle  repelled  their  accusation ;  "  Whether 
wt  be  beside  ourselves,  it  is  to  God ;  or  whether  we 
be  sober,  it  is  for  your  caubc  ;  for  the  love  of  Christ 
constraineth  us." 

Here  then  the  source,  from  which  the  peculiar  con- 
duct of  the  Christian  originates,  is  laid  open  to  our 
view.  It  is  the  constraining  love  of  Christ.  It  is  this, 
which  bears  him  away  like  a  torrent,  and  leads  him  to 
feel  and  to  act,  v/hile  others  are  coldly  speculating  and 
disputing.  It  does  not  make  him  an  enthusiast  or  a 
fanatic  ;  it  does  not  deprive  him  of  humility  and  meek- 


360  The  Constraining  Influence 

ness,  prudence  and  wibdom  ;  but  it  burns  like  a  fire 
within  liim,  warming  him  to  energy  and  zeal ;  and  it 
renders  him  a  blessing  to  the  world,  and  an  honour  to 
the  religion  of  his  God. 

Dare  not  then,  brethren,  to  censure  the  conduct, 
which  flows  from  so  hallowed  a  principle  as  this.  Con- 
demn the  fruits  of  fanaticism  and  intemperance  where- 
ever  you  find  theai,  but  revile  not  the  zeal,  which  has 
the  love  of  God  for  its  source.  It  is  a  sacred  thing,  and 
there  is  danger  as  well  as  folly  in  assailing  it.  Instead 
of  rashly  condemning  the  warmth  of  the  Christian,  en- 
quire how  it  is,  that  so  much  indifference  and  apathy 
are  to  be  found  in  your  own  temper  and  conduct.  Ask 
how  it  is,  that  professing  to  serve  the  same  God  and  to 
hope  in  the  same  Saviour,  you  are  spending  your  days 
in  worldly  vanities  and  sins,  while  he  is  spurning  all 
the  follies  of  the  world,  denying  himself,  taking  up  his 
cross,  and  following  Christ.  The  conclusion,  to  which 
such  enquiries  will  bring  you,  will  be  humiliating.  You 
will  discover,  that  while  you  have  been  suspecting  the 
religion  of  your  neighbour,  you  ought  to  have  sus- 
pected your  own.  You  will  find  that  your  conduct  has 
been  different  from  his,  because  the  state  of  your  heart 
has  been  different  ;  because  you  have  wanted  that  spi- 
ritual life,  which  has  quickened  and  animated  him. 
You  will  feel  yourselves  to  be  dead  in  trespasses  and 
sins;  strangers  to  pardoning  grace;  strangers  to  the 
power  of  redeeming  love;  strangers  to  religion,  to 
Christ,  and  to  God.  But  what,  if  these  conclusions  be 
humiliating  and  painful  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  be  humbled 
here,  than  to  be  condemned  hereafter?  Is  not  the  pain 
of  a  broken  and  contrite  spirit  easier  to  be  borne,  than 
the  pains  of  eternity  ?  Paul  himself  was  once  forced  to 
open  his  mind  to  such  convictions  as  these.   He  too  was 


oj  the  Lorve  of  Christ.  S61 

constrained  to  see  himself  ungodly,  unpardoned,  and 
perishing,  after  having  for  years  deemed  himself  righ- 
teous and  blameless.  And  did  he  ever  regret  the  dis- 
covery ?  Never.  As  long  as  he  remained  on  earth,  he 
alu'ays  spoke  of  it  as  a  marvellous  instance  of  mercy  ; 
and  when  he  thinks  of  it  now,  the  thought  adds  fresh 
warmth  to  his  gratitude  and  gives  a  new  burst  to  his 
song.  Could  he  now  speak  to  us  from  his  heavenly 
throne,  he  would  tell  us  that  the  convictions,  against 
which  we  are  struggling,  are  the  very  convictions, 
which  were  once  lodged  in  his  own  soul ;  that  they 
were  the  beginning  of  his  spiritual  existence,  the  fore- 
runners of  his  present  blessedness  and  joy.  He  would 
tell  us  that  there  is  not  a  redeemed  sinner  rejoicing 
around  him,  who  has  not  tasted  of  their  bitterness  and 
shame  ;  and  he  would  call  upon  us  to  welcome  them 
into  our  hearts,  as  messengers  sent  to  us  on  an  errand 
of  mercy  from  heaven.  Why  then  should  we  refuse 
them  admission  ?  Why  should  we  any  longer  resist 
the  Holy  Ghost  ?  Let  us  cease  to  cavil  and  dispute, 
and  learn  to  pray.  Let  us  entreat  the  Father  of  mercies 
to  open  our  hearts  to  the  humbling  influence  of  his  life- 
giving  Spirit.  Then  shall  we  experience  the  transform- 
ing power  of  the  love  of  Christ ;  the  efficacy  of  that 
grace,  which  brings  to  the  soul  righteousness  and 
peace,  pardon  and  salvation. 


SERMON  XYII. 


CHRIST  THE  HEALER  OF  THE  BROKEN 
HEARTED. 


ST.  LUKE  IV.    18. 

He  hath  sent  ?7ie  to  heal  the  broke7i-heartecl. 


1  HESE  gracious  words  proceeded  out  of  the  mouth 
of  Jesus  in  the  synagogue  of  Nazareth.  He  declares  in 
them  the  errand,  on  which  he  came  down  to  the  earth, 
and  points  out  to  us  the  work,  which,  as  Mediator  of 
his  church,  he  still  delights  to  perform.  Never  was  any 
messenger  sent  forth  from  heaven  on  so  merciful  an 
errand  as  this.  Never  was  the  eternal  Son  employed  in 
a  more  blessed  and  honourable  work. 

In  meditating  on  the  words,  which  the  Saviour  has 
here  applied  to  himself,  we  may  consider,  Jirst^  the 
distressed  condition  of  the  persons  spoken  of  in  the 
text;  secondly i  the  reasons,  why  they  are  brought  into 
this  condition  ;  and,  thirdly,  the  encouragement,  which 
the  declaration  before  us  is  calculated  to  afford  them. 
And  may  that  Holy  Spirit,  who  has  caused  this  gra- 
cious saying  to  be  written  for  our  learning,  so  bless 
our  meditations  on  it,  that  all  the  mourning  and  con- 
trite amongt  us  may  be  enabled  to  bear  this  testimony 
concerning  it,  "  This  day  is  this  Scripture  fulfilled  in 
our  ears !" 

I.  The  condition  of  the  persons  spoken  of  in  the 
text,  is  a  condition  of  extreme  distress  and  misery. 


Christ  the  Healer,  &'c.  S63 

They  are  broken-hearted.  All  their  happiness  is  gone. 
All  their  hopes  are  blasted.  Nothing  is  left  to  them  but 
wretchedness  and  despair. 

The  world  has  many  such  sufferers  in  it.  The  cala- 
mities of  life  are  daily  breaking  a  thousand  hearts,  and 
bringing  down  multitudes  of  the  children  of  men  with 
sorrow  to  the  grave.  Now  all  these  sons  of  affliction 
Christ  is  ready  to  heal ;  but  the  greater  part  of  them 
refuse  his  aid,  and  choose  despair  and  death,  rather 
than  the  healing  balm  provided  for  them  in  his  gospel. 
It  is  however  the  spiritually  broken-hearted,  who  are 
the  special  objects  of  the  Saviour's  compassion  ;  they, 
who  are  brought  by  spiritual  trials  into  the  same  state 
of  grief  and  despondency,  as  that,  into  which  others  are 
brought  by  worldly  disappointments  and  calamities. 
These  are  the  sufferers,  to  whom  the  text  principally 
refers.  It  seems  to  speak  of  them  as  labouring  under 
a  painful  disease,  as  fiiinting  and  sinking  beneath  the 
power  of  sin,  that  spiritual  malady,  which  has  polluted, 
racked,  and  destroyed  so  many  immortal  souls. 

1.  It  implies  that  tkei/  have  a  sorrowful  consciousness 
of  the  existence  of  this  evil  within  them.  They  feel  sin 
to  be  deeply  lodged  in  their  hearts,  and  they  are  filled 
with  shame  and  grief  at  the  thought  of  having  so  loath- 
some a  disease  raging  in  their  breasts.  But  it  was  not 
always  thus  with  them.  They  were  once  light-hearted 
and  careless.  They  had  the  same  cause  for  spiritual 
sorrow,  which  they  have  now,  but  they  were  not  sensi- 
ble of  its  existence.  They  thought  but  little  of  their 
iniquities,  and  when  they  did  think  of  them,  it  was 
without  feeling  or  seriousness.  They  were  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins,  and  they  were  consequently  stran- 
gers to  spiritual  sorrows  and  joys.  But  now  the  Holy 
Spirit  has  quickened  their  souls,  and  awakened  them  to 


^64  Christ  the  Healer 

a  sense  of  their  sinful  and  wretched  condition.  They 
find  that  there  is  no  heahh  in  them.  They  feel  them- 
selves to  be  miserable  sinners.  They  are  pricked  to 
the  heart  by  a  consciousness  of  their  transgressions, 
and  are  wear}'  and  heavy  laden  with  the  burden  of 
their  sins. 

2.  Thei/  are  also  dissatisfied  with  their  condition,  and 
earnestly  desire  deliverance  from  it.  Like  men  op- 
pressed with  sickness,  they  are  not  in  a  state,  in  which 
they  can  be  at  ease.  They  want  health,  and  nothing 
but  health  will  satisfy  them,  or  give  them  relief  from 
their  sufferings.  In  other  troubles  earthly  comforts  may 
be  of  some  avail,  but  in  this  they  are  of  none.  They 
have  lost  all  their  power  to  delight.  In  the  midst  of 
them  all,  the  heart  still  throbs  and  aches,  and  is  dead 
to  every  thing  but  a  sense  of  its  misery  and  sin,  its  sor- 
row and  its  shame.  Deliverance  from  sin  is  the  mercy 
they  sigh  for,  and  as  long  as  this  grievous  burden  pres- 
ses them  down,  they  must  still,  like  the  contrite  publi- 
can, smite  upon  their  breasts ;  they  must  still,  like  the 
psalmist,  go  mourning  all  the  day  long. 

3.  The?/  are  sensible  likewise  of  the  deadly  nature  of 
the  disease  under  which  they  are  suffering.  They  know 
that  it  is  a  mortal  disease  ;  not  merely  debasing  and 
loathsome,  but  daiigerous  and  fatal;  a  disease,  which 
has  already  brought  spiritual  death  upon  their  souls, 
and  is  hourly  bringing  them  nearer  to  everlasting  de- 
struction. The  dread  of  final  perdition  is  not  indeed 
the  only  reason,  why  they  look  on  iniquity  with  hatred. 
Were  death  to  be  no  longer  its  wages,  it  would  still  be 
the  object  of  their  abhorrence.  But  they  know  that  sin 
has  a  curse  and  a  wrath  connected  with  it,  which  thev 
are  not  able  to  bear ;  and  they  never  look  forward  into 
eternity  without  shrinking  with  fear. 


of  the  Broken-Hearted .  365 

4.  To  this  sorrowful  consciousness  of  their  depra- 
vity, this  dissatisfaction  with  their  condition,  and  this 
dread  of  futurity,  is  added  a  despair  of  healing  their 
spiritual  diseases  by  means  of  their  own  ability  or 
strength.  There  was  a  time,  in  which  they  imagined 
that  their  case  was  not  altogether  hopeless.  They  felt 
themselves  to  be  sinners,  and  they  knew  that  the  wrath 
to  come  was  the  just  desert  of  their  transgressions  ;  but 
they  still  hoped  that  by  their  prayers  and  contrition  this 
wrath  might  be  averted.  They  accordingly  wept  and 
prayed.  Day  by  day  they  cried  for  deliverance,  and 
night  after  night  they  watered  their  couch  with  their 
tears.  But  still  they  were  sorrowful.  They  still  seemed 
as  far  from  pardon  and  heaven  as  they  were  before,  and 
condemnation  and  hell  appeared  as  dreadful  and  as  near. 
They  had  recourse  to  other  expedients,  but  these  were 
found  to  be  equally  ineffectual  to  remove  the  guilt  of 
their  transgressions  or  to  bring  peace  to  their  souls. 
Driven  from  refuge  to  refuge,  from  one  ground  of 
hope  to  another,  they  are  at  length  forced  to  abandon 
them  all ;  and  find  themselves  to  be  not  only  guilty, 
but  helpless  and  hopeless.  It  is  this  feeling  of  despair, 
which  breaks  the  heart,  and  which,  if  not  counteracted 
by  a  rising  hope  of  deliverance  in  the  gospel  of  peace, 
would  end  in  the  anguish  of  Cain,  and  in  the  horror  of 
Judas. 

Such  is  the  afflicted  condition  of  the  persons  spoken 
of  in  the  text,  and  all  who  are  Christians  indeed  have 
tasted  of  its  wormwood  and  its  gall.  They  have  been 
broken-hearted  with  spiritual  sorrows.  Not  that  they 
have  all  suffered  in  the  same  degree,  but  they  have  all 
suffered  from  the  same  cause.  They  have  all  felt  that 
there  is  no  health  in  their  souls,  and  have  mourned 
over  the  deadly  disease,  which  they  have  found  thcm- 

Ll 


366  C^hrist  the  Healei- 

selves  unable  to  heal.  Yea,  many  of  them  are  still  at 
seasons  mourners  in  Zion.  The  feelings  of  penitence, 
even  in  the  mind  of  the  renewed  Christian,  are  not 
always  mingled  with  the  workings  of  faith.  A  hope  in 
infinite  mercy  does  not  always  brighten  the  eye,  which 
is  wet  with  the  tears  of  contrition.  The  grace  of  the 
Saviour  is  sometimes  forgotten,  and  the  repentant  be- 
liever thinks  only  of  his  own  depravity  and  gnilt. 
Sometimes  too  he  suffers  himself  to  be  overcome  by 
the  power  of  temptation,  and  he  yields,  at  other  times, 
to  the  influence  of  spirituol  sloth.  Watchfulness  and 
prayer  lose  their  hold  on  his  mind,  and  worldly-mind- 
edness  and  unconcern  take  possession  of  his  heart. 
These  seasons  of  declension  he  must  expect  to  be  suc- 
ceeded by  bitter  convictions.  He  must  look  for  a  par- 
tial return  of  that  painful  remorse,  which  once  har- 
rowed up  his  soul,  and  must  deem  himself  peculiarly 
favoured  when  peace  is  again  restored  to  his  mind. 

Temporal  afflictions  are  often  made  the  means  of  re- 
newing this  work  of  repentance,  and  sometimes  mate- 
rially increases  the  penitent's  despondency.  In  days 
that  are  past,  he  has  rejoiced  in  tribulation,  and  viewed 
it  as  the  chastisement  of  a  Father,  who  loved  him  ;  but 
now  he  regards  it  as  a  token  of  wrath,  and  infers  from 
it  that  the  divine  mercy  towards  him  is  clean  gone 
for  ever,  and  that  his  God  will  be  fevourable  to  him 
no  more. 

The  believing  Christian  then,  as  well  as  the  return- 
ing and  repentant  sinner,  may  often  be  numbered 
among  the  broken-hearted.  The  spiritual  sorrow  of 
both  is  of  the  same  nature,  and  flows  from  the  same 
source.  It  is  a  godly  sorrow,  divine  in  its  origin,  and 
the  immediate  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  The  calami- 
ties of  life  cannot  produce  it.     In  one  sense  they  may 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  267 

break  the  heart.  They  may  put  into  it  that  sorrow  of 
the  world,  which  worketh  death  ;  but  they  cannot  soften 
it ;  they  cannot  fili  it  with  spiritual  mourning.  They 
may  lead  us  to  madness  or  suicide,  but  they  cannot 
draw  from  our  eyes  the  tears  of  Peter,  nor  lodge  in  our 
souls  the  contrition  of  David.  Neither  have  sermons 
nor  ordinances  any  power  in  themselves  to  accomplish 
this  work.  Thousands,  who  habitually  hear  and  attend 
them,  remain  altogether  unaffected  by  them,  and  can 
even  laugh  at  the  penitence,  which  they  seem  calcu- 
lated to  produce.  The  outward  means  of  grace  are  as 
unable  to  discover  to  the  sinner  his  disease,  as  they  are 
to  heal  it  when  it  is  discovered.  The  work  of  convic- 
tion is  as  much  the  work  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  work  of 
conversion  and  consolation.  It  is  God,  who  teaches  the 
heart  to  feel  and  the  eye  to  weep.  It  is  he,  who  makes 
the  hard-hearted  trifler,  a  thoughtful,  serious,  and  con- 
trite mourner. 

II.  But  why  does  the  Physician  of  souls  thus  deal 
with  the  sinful  children  of  men  ?  Why  cannot  he  apply 
his  healing  balm  to  their  wounds,  without  first  afflict- 
ing them  with  so  much  sorrow  and  wretchedness? 
"Why  must  they  be  brought  into  so  distressed  and  dis- 
consolate a  state,  before  they  are  made  partakers  of 
pardon  and  peace  ? 

1.  In  answer  to  these  enquiries  we  may  observe, 
first,  that  God  thus  afflicts  his  penitent  children,  that 
sin  may  be  embittered  to  their  souls ;  that  they  may 
have  a  heart-felt  knowledge  of  the  misery  and  shame, 
which  it  is  able  to  implant  in  the  mind,  and  thus  learn 
to  regard  it  with  hatred  and  fear.  By  nature  we  love 
sin;  we  think  it  calculated  to  make  us  happy;  and  all 
the  representations  of  Scripture,  and  all  the  sufferings 
under  which  the  world  is  groaning,  though  strength- 


S68  Christ  the  Healer 

ened  by  our  own  experience  and  the  testimony  of  the 
wisest  and  best  of  mankind,  cannot  change  our  opinion 
concerning  it,  nor  cause  us  to  regard  it  in  any  other 
view,  than  as  an  ol^ject  of  dehght  and  a  source  of  hap- 
piness  to  man.    It  is  the  will  of  God  therefore  that  we 
should  be  taught  the  real  nature  of  sin  by  feeling  some- 
thing of  its  spiritual  consequences.  Hence  he  fixes  the 
arrows  of  conviction  in  our  hearts,  and  makes  us  taste 
of  the  bitterness  of  iniquity.   He  causes  us  to  feel  the 
smart  of  our  wounds,  that  we  may  no  longer  love  and 
caress  the  hand  which  inflicted  them.    He  lays  upon  us 
spiritual  troubles,  and  in  the  midst  of  them,  he  causes 
the  voice  of  conscience  to  address  us  in  these  words  of 
his  prophet,  "  Thy  ways  and  thy  doings  have  procured 
these  things  unto  thee.     This  is  thy  wickedness,  be- 
cause it  is  bitter,  because  it  reacheth  unto  thine  heart." 
2.   The  sinner  is  made  broken-hearted,  that  he  may 
he  willing  to  be  healed  by  Christ  in  his  own  way,  and  on 
his  own  terms.   Before  a  sickman  can  be  prevailed  on 
to  apply  to  a  physician  for  his  aid,   he   must  feel  the 
sickness,  which  has  seized  on  him,  and  know  that  he 
stands  in  need  of  a  physician.     If  the  remedy  which  is 
prescribed  to  him,  be  a  painful  remedy,  or  repulsive  to 
his  prejudices  or  feelings,  he  must  undergo  much  un- 
easiness  and  suffering  before  he  will  consent  to  submit 
to  and  apply  it.  Thus  no  sinner  will  ever  seek  the  sal- 
vation of  Christ,  till  he  sees  something  of  the  sinful  and 
perishing  condition  of  his  soul.    It  is  not  a  way  of  sal- 
vation suited  to  our  taste.   It  is  opposed  to  our  fancied 
goodness,  and  it  pours  contempt  on  our  imaginary 
greatness.     It  wounds  every  proud  and   self-righteous 
feeling  of  our  hearts.     Nothing  but  a  deep  conviction 
that  our  state  is  desperate  will  bring  us  as  suppliants  to 
Ihe  cross  of  such  a  Saviour  as  Christ,    Like  seamen  in 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  S69 

a  storm,  who  see  that  they  must  sink  if  they  do  not 
cast  every  thing  out  of  their  ship,  we  give  up  our  be- 
loved merits  only  when  we  see  that  we  must  give  them 
up,  or  perish  eternally  with  them. 

Christ  therefore,  before  he  heals  us,  shews  us  our 
lost  condition,  and  thus  makes  us  willing  to  submit  to 
whatever  method  of  restoration  he  may  prescribe.  The 
soul  becomes  humble  and  obedient,  and  is  ready  to 
welcome  whatever  may  save  it  from  hell  and  lead  it  to 
heaven.  Thus  was/iti  with  the  Jews,  to  whom  Saint 
Peter  preached  on  the  day  of  pentecost.  Before  they 
were  pricked  to  the  heart,  they  mocked  and  reviled ;  but 
when  their  guilt  and  their  danger  were  laid  open  before 
them,  they  said  with  one  voice  unto  Peter  and  to  the 
rest  of  the  apostles,  "  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall  we 
do  ?"  Thus  was  it  with  Saul.  He  was  no  sooner  con- 
vinced of  the  enormity  of  his  conduct  in  opposing  the 
gospel  of  Christ,  than  he  also  asked,  ''  Lord,  what  wilt 
thou  have  me  to  do  ?"  It  was  the  same  with  the  gaoler 
at  Philippi.  As  soon  as  he  was  made  to  tremble  under 
a  sense  of  his  sins,  he  fell  down  before  Paul  and  Silas, 
and  said,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved?" 

3.  A  further  reason,  why  the  returning  sinner  is  thus 
torn  and  smitten,  may  be  this ;  that  the  deliverance 
vouchsafed  to  him  may  be  more  highly  valued.  We  con- 
sider the  removal  of  a  disease,  which  has  brought  us  to 
the  gate  of  death,  a  greater  instance  of  mercy,  than  re- 
storation to  health  from  a  slighter  attack.  So  likewise 
the  more  a  sinner  sees  of  the  danger  and  horror  of  the 
state,  into  which  sin  has  brought  him,  the  more  will  he 
value  the  grace,  which  has  rescued  him  from  it.  We 
do  not  know  how  to  estimate  the  worth  of  salvation, 
till  we  have  seen  ourselves  standing  on  the  verge  of 
destruction,  and  find  ourselves  snatched  as  brands  from 


270  Chinst  the  Healer 

the  burning.  Never  is  the  news  of  a  pardon  heard  with 
so  fervent  a  joy,  as  when  the  sentence  of  death  has 
been  passed,  and  the  prisoner  has  arrived  at  the  place 
of  execution. 

4.  It  may  also  be  the  will  of  God  to  give  the  peni- 
tent a  deep  sense  of  his  wretchedness,  that  the  great 
Physician  of  his  soul  may  be  more  warmly  loved.  'J'he 
man  who  has  been  made  the  means  of  raising  from  the 
bed  of  sickness  a  sufferer,  who  thought  hiy  condition 
desperate  and  who  had  applied  in  vain  to  other  physi- 
cians, will  be  thanked  with  greater  ardour  of  gratitude, 
than  one  who  has  rendered  assistance  in  a  less  dange- 
rous case.  It  is  the  same  with  the  spiritual  sufferer. 
He,  who  has  felt  the  plague  of  his  heart  the  most 
keenly,  will  value  most  highly  the  heavenly  friend, 
who  has  healed  him.  His  love  will  be  proportioned  to 
the  depth  of  his  penitence,  and  the  sense  which  he  has 
of  the  greatness  of  his  guilt.  Hence  it  is  generally  found 
that  they,  whose  convictions  of  sin  have  been  the  deepest 
and  the  most  abiding,  have  manifested  the  greatest  zeal 
in  the  service  of  Christ,  and  become  his  most  eminent 
servants.  They  love  much,  because  they  feel  more 
than  others  have  felt  how  much  has  been  forgiven 
them.  They  have  seen  more  of  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ,  more  of  his  suitableness  to  their  necessities, 
more  of  the  tenderness  of  his  heart,  more  of  his  power 
and  his  goodness,  more  of  the  greatness  of  his  salva- 
tion. Thus  was  it  with  Paul.  He  deemed  himself  the 
chief  of  sinners,  and  the  consequence  was,  that  he  be- 
came the  very  chief  of  saints.  It  was  the  same  with 
the  woman,  who  had  been  a  sinner.  Simon  received 
the  Redeemer  into  his  house,  but  he  gave  him  no  water 
for  his  feet  and  no  oil  for  his  head.  This  woman  on 
the  contrary   '<  stood  behind  him  weeping,  and  began 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  271 

to  wash  his  feet  with  tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with 
the  hairs  of  her  head,  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  anointed 
them  with  ointment." 

III.  These  then  are  some  of  the  reasons,  why  the 
feelings  of  repentance  and  sorrow  are  wrought  in  the 
soul  before  it  pleases  the  heavenly  Physician  to  heal 
its  diseases.  Let  us  proceed  to  consider,  thirdly,  the 
encouragement,  which  the  declaration  before  us  is  cal- 
culated to  afford  to  every  contrite  and  broken-hearted 
mourner. 

1.  The  declaration  of  Christ  plainly  implies,  first, 
that  it  is  the  will  of  his  heavenly  Father  that  the  broken- 
hearted should  be  healed.  He  has  sent  a  messenger  from 
heaven  to  bring  peace  to  their  hearts,  and  parted  for  a 
season  with  the  delight  of  his  soul,  that  his  sorrowful 
children  may  be  healed  and  cheered. 

When  the  mind  is  filled  with  despondency  under  a 
sense  of  its  guilt,  we  are  apt  to  look  upon  God  as  tak- 
ing pleasure  in  our  anguish,  and  rejoicing  as  an  enemy 
in  the  bitterness  of  our  grief.  We  hear  of  his  mercy 
to  the  sinful,  and  of  his  compassion  for  the  wretched, 
but  we  cannot  be  persuaded  of  our  interest  in  either. 
We  see  in  him  only  a  God  of  inexorable  justice,  in- 
censed against  us  by  our  manifold  provocations,  and 
treasuring  up  for  us  wrath  and  fiery  indignation.  And 
yet  this  dreadful  Sovereign  is  a  God  of  unbounded 
benevolence  and  love.  His  tender  mercies  are  over  all 
his  works,  and  there  is  not  a  creature  in  his  universe, 
whom  he  does  not  wish  to  see  holy  and  happy.  His 
indignation  against  iniquity  springs  from  his  love,  and 
even  his  justice  is  a  modification  of  his  benevolence. 
He  hates  and  discourages  sin,  because  sin  is  calculated 
to  destroy  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  and  to  involve 
them  in  wretchedness.  He  willeth  not  the  death  of  the 


273  Christ  the  Healer 

most  rebellious  sinner,  neither  does  he  delight  in  the 
misery  of  the  vilest. 

When  therefore  the  transgressor  is  anxious  to  be 
saved  from  his  sin,  from  its  guilt,  its  power,  and  its 
bitterness,  he  may  think  of  the  general  benevolence  of 
God,  and  learn  to  hope  in  his  mercy.  He  may  think 
of  the  text,  and  be  taught  that  the  Lord  is  waiting  to 
be  gracious  to  his  soul  ;  that  he  wishes  its  wounds  to 
be  healed,  and  its  grief  to  be  changed  into  joy.  Yea, 
he  may  even  take  encouragement  from  his  present  sor- 
row, and  draw  hope  out  of  his  misery.  Why  has  the 
Almighty  vouchsafed  to  him  a  discovery  of  his  wretch- 
edness ?  Why  has  he  broken  and  softened  his  heart  ? 
That  he  may  fill  it  with  fear  in  this  world  and  rack  it 
with  pain  in  the  next  ?  No.  It  is  a  work  of  compas- 
sion, and  not  of  vengeance  ;  the  forerunner  of  mercy, 
and  not  an  intimation  of  wrath.  He  has  shewn  the  man 
his  disease,  that  he  may  seek  a  remedy  against  it ;  he 
has  opened  his  eyes  to  his  danger,  that  he  may  escape 
it.  He  has  torn  him,  that  he  may  be  healed  ;  and  smit- 
ten him,  that  he  may  bind  him  up. 

The  assurances  of  God  in  his  word  seal,  as  it 
were,  the  most  exalted  views  of  his  compassion  and 
mercy,  which  a  returning  sinner  can  form.  He  claims 
the  work  of  consolation  as  his  own  peculiar  work  ;  and 
represents  himself  as  delighting  as  much  in  comforting 
the  mourner,  as  a  mother  delights  in  chasing  away  the 
fears  and  the  sorrows  of  a  beloved  child.  This  is  his 
language  to  all  his  broken-hearted  children,  ^'  As  one, 
whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  1  comfort  you  ; 
and  ye  shall  be  comforted."  He  is  indeed  a  wise,  as 
well  as  a  tender-hearted  parent ;  and  he  will  not  sacri- 
fice the  future  and  permanent  happiness  of  his  children, 
for  the  gratification  and  ease  of  the  present  hour.    He 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  273 

will  send  them  for  a  moment  any  light  affliction,  which 
is  likely  to  work  ont  for  them  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  He  will  sow  in  their 
hearts  any  seeds  of  sorrow,  which  are  likely  to  produce 
for  them  a  harvest  of  joy. 

2.  The  declaration  in  the  text  teaches  us,  secondly, 
that  God  has  given  to  Christ  authoritij  and  powen  to 
heal  all  the  broken-hearted. 

He  has  given  him  authority.  Long  before  he  was 
born,  he  was  set  apart  for  this  work,  and  when  he  was 
sent  into  the  world,  these  were  the  words,  with  which 
he  opened  his  commission.  "  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
God  is  upon  mc,  because  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me 
to  preach  good  tidings  unto  the  meek.  He  hath  sent 
me  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty 
to  the  captives  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them 
that  are  bound  ;  to  proclaim  the  acceptable  year  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  day  of  vengeance  of  our  God  ;  to  com- 
fort all  that  mourn  ;  to  appoint  unto  them  that  mourn 
in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of 
joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit 
of  heaviness." 

Christ  has  received  j&oz^eT  also  to  comfort  the  mourn- 
ing Israel  of  God.  His  Father  has  not  only  sent  him 
on  this  gracious  errand,  but  furnished  him  with  all  the 
qualifications,  which  are  necessary  for  the  faithful  dis- 
charge of  it.  "  It  hath  pleased  the  Father,"  says  the 
apostle,  "  that  in  him  should  all  fulness  dwell ;"  a  ful- 
ness of  pardon  for  the  guilty,  a  fulness  of  comfort  for 
the  sorrowful,  a  fulness  of  strength  for  the  weak,  a  ful- 
ness of  life  for  the  dead.  The  persons,  to  whom  he 
is  sent,  are  lying  under  a  sentence  of  condemnation ; 
and  before  they  can  be  happy,  this  sentence  mu;.t  be 
repealed  and  the  criminals  pardoned.     God  therefore 

M  m 


37-*  Christ  the  Healer 

**  has  given  his  Son  power  over  all  flesh,  that  he  should 
give  eternal  life  to  as  many  as  he  has  given  him."  He 
has  promised  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  shall  be 
saved;  shall  have  the  curse  of  the  law  removed  from 
him,  and  all  his  multiplied  transgressions  freely  and 
completely  pardoned.  He  has  given  to  the  blood,  which 
flowed  from  his  cross,  such  infinite  virtue,  that  it  can 
cure  the  deepest  and  deadliest  wounds,  and  save  to  the 
uttermost  all  who  are  sprinkled  by  it. 

He  has  given  also  to  his  Son  the  ministration  of  his 
Spirit,  and  empowered  him  to  bestow  on  mankind  his 
enlightening,  quickening,  sanctifying,  and  comforting 
influence.  By  this  sovereign  remedy  the  great  Physi- 
cian breaks  the  power  of  sin  in  our  souls,  and  implants 
within  them  a  principle  of  holiness.  By  this  he  com- 
municates faith  and  gives  birth  to  hope.  By  this  he 
enables  us  to  rejoice  in  the  exceeding  great  promises 
of  his  gospel,  and  shews  us  our  interest  in  his  special 
favour  and  love.  By  this  he  makes  his  word  and  ordi- 
nances eftectual  to  cheer  and  enliven  us,  and  causes 
even  the  afflictive  dispensations  of  his  providence  to  be 
helpers  of  our  joy. 

3.  The  declaration  before  us  assures  us,  lastly,  that 
Christ  is  willing  to  heal  all  the  broken-hearted,  who 
apply  for  his  aid  j  that  he  is  ready  to  exercise  the  au- 
thority and  power,  which  he  has  received.  The  Father 
has  sent  him  from  heaven  to  execute  this  gracious 
work,  and  he  will  not  be  unfaithful  to  the  trust  com- 
mitted  to  him.  As  Mediator  of  the  church,  he  is  be- 
come the  servant  of  Jehovah.  In  this  character  he  is 
spoken  of  by  the  prophet,  and  called  "  a  righteous  ser- 
vant." ^'  Though  he  were  a  sort,"  says  the  apostle,  ^'  yet 
learned  he  obedience  by  the  things  which  he  suffered  ; 
and  being  made  perfect,  he  became  the  author  of  eter- 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  %*t5 

nal  salvation  unto  all  them,  that  obey  him."  In  the 
councils  of  eternity  he  voluntarily  took  on  him  the 
office  of  Messenger  of  the  covenant,  and  fulfils  all  the 
duties  of  it  with  faithfulness  and  delight.  '^  Sacrifice 
and  offering,"  says  he,  "  thou  didst  not  desire ;  mine 
ears  hast  thou  opened  :  burnt-offering  and  sin-offering 
hast  thou  not  required.  Then  said  I,  Lo  I  come ;  in 
the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me;  I  delight 
to  do  thy  will,  O  my  God;. yea,  thy  law  is  within  my 
heart.  I  have  declared  thy  faithfulness  and  thy  salva- 
tion. I  have  not  concealed  thy  loving  kindness  and  thy 
truth  from  the  great  congregation." 

But  the  readiness  of  Christ  to  heal  all  the  broken- 
hearted must  be  traced  to  a  still  more  encouraging 
source,  than  obedience  to  his  commission.  His  heart 
is  as  full  of  love  for  the  sorrowful  sinner,  as  of  reve- 
rence for  the  commands  of  his  Father.  The  work, 
which  has  been  given  him  to  do,  is  consequently  a 
work,  in  which  he  delights.  The  errand,  on  which 
he  came  down  from  heaven,  is  an  errand  congenial  to 
the  desires  of  his  heart ;  an  errand,  which  brings  to 
him  more  honour  and  happiness,  than  all  the  services 
and  worship  of  his  angels.  He  voluntarily  left  the 
praises  of  eternity  to  be  employed  in  it.  He  came  down 
to  the  earth,  and  bore  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sor- 
rows ;  he  was  stricken  and  afflicted,  wounded  and 
bruised  ;  and  yet  he  is  satisfied.  His  infinite  mind  is 
filled  with  unspeakable  satisfaction  as  he  contemplates 
the  fruit  of  his  labours,  and  through  eternity  he  will 
never  look  back  without  joy  on  the  travail  of  his  soul. 
And  whence  does  this  satisfaction  arise  ?  From  the 
mercifulness  of  his  nature  ;  from  the  delight,  which  he 
takes  in  the  happiness  of  his  creatures ;  from  his  great 
love  to  his  people. 


S76  Chrut  the  Healer 

Here  then  is  a  ricli  source  of  encouragement  and 
peace  to  every  desponding  mourner.  The  God,  against 
whom  he  has  sinned,  has  sent  a  messenger  from  hea- 
ven to  heal  him  ;  and  he,  whom  he  has  sent,  rejoices 
to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted  and  to  pardon  the  guiltj'. 
He  has  infinite  compassi(m  to  pity,  as  well  as  infinite 
power  to  relieve.  He  has  assumed  our  nature  and  par- 
taken of  our  sorrows,  that  he  may  know  by  experience 
how  to  discover  and  feel  for  our  miseries ;  and  he  has 
had  his  soul  pierced  with  unutterable  anguish,  that  he 
might  procure  a  balm  for  our  wounds.  Tliis  balm  he 
freely  communicated  to  all  who  came  to  him  for  it, 
when  he  was  on  earth,  and  the  Bible  tells  us  that  he 
has  lost  none  of  his  compassion  and  tenderness  by  going 
to  heaven.  He  has  commanded  his  apostle  to  assure 
us,  that  he  is  still  a  merciful  and  faithful  i^igh-Priest, 
and  thousands  of  his  suffering  people  are  daily  experi- 
encing his  sympathy  and  love.  The}-  are  all  ready  to 
testify  that  he  delighteth  in  mercy,  and  knows  how  to 
pour  consolation  into  their  sorrowful  souls. 

A  review  of  the  subject,  on  which  we  have  been 
meditating,  points  out  to  us,  first,  the  persons,  to  whom 
the  tninisters  of  the  gospel  are  to  administer  comfort. 
Some  of  their  brethren  would  have  them  speak  peace 
indiscriminately  to  all,  and  are  sometimes  ready  to  cen- 
sure them,  because  the  careless,  the  worldly,  the  proud, 
and  the  ungodly,  derive  no  comfort  from  hearing  them. 
But  where,  brethren,  can  we  find  in  our  Bibles  any 
consolation  for  such  characters  as  these  ?  Where  is  our 
warrant  to  speak  peace  to  their  souls  ?  Our  commission 
is  in  substance  the  same  as  our  Master's.  We  are  sent 
on  the  same  errand  of  mercy,  and  to  the  very  same  de- 
scription of  persons.  We  have  a  message  of  consola- 
tion entrusted  to  us,  but  then  it  is  to  be  delivered  only 


of  the  Broken-Hearted,  §77 

to  the  poor  in  spirit,  the  broken  in  heart,  the  bruised. 
In  proportion  as  we  are  faithful  and  skilful  ministers 
of  the  word,  and  as  God  blesses  our  labours,  these 
humble  sinners  will  be  comforted  and  others  disquiet- 
ed ;  the  poor  and  the  hungry  will  be. filled  with  good 
things,  while  the  rich  will  be  sent  empty  away.  Indeed 
there  is  no  greater  proof  of  the  faithfulness  of  a  minister 
of  Christ,  than  his  being  made  a  son  of  consolation  to 
some  of  his  brethren,  and  the  means  of  disturbing  the 
false  peace  of  others.  He,  who  has  a  message  of  com- 
fort for  all,  may  be  caressed  by  men,  but  he  will  not  be 
commended  by  God.  Me  may  quiet  the  conscience  of 
the  worldly  and  lukewarm  professor  of  the  gospel,  but 
he  will  not  be  the  instrument  of  saving  his  soul.  He 
will  not  advance  the  glory  of  the  Redeemer,  nor  the 
spiritual  prosperity  and  salvation  of  his  fellow  sinners. 

The  text  affords  us,  secondly,  a  test  by  which  we 
may  try  our  spiritual  comfort.  Whence  did  it  spring? 
Did  your  light  arise  out  of  darkness  ?  Had  your  spiri- 
tual joy  its  origin  in  godly  sorrow  ?  Did  your  heart 
bleed,  before  it  was  healed  ?  Then  be  thankful  to  that 
gracious  Saviour,  who  has  given  rest  to  your  soul. 
But  if  your  religious  consolations  were  not  preceded 
by  the  deep  workings  of  contrition,  if  your  conscience 
was  quieted  before  sin  was  embittered  to  your  heart, 
you  have  no  cause  to  rejoice.  Your  peace  is  not  the 
peace  of  God ;  your  joy  is  not  the  joy  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  It  is  the  joy  of  the  man,  who  eats,  drinks,  and 
is  merry,  while  his  habitation  is  on  fire  over  his  heud. 
It  is  the  peace  of  the  mariner,  who  slumbers  while  his 
vessel  is  sinking  in  the  storm. 

Not  that  every  Christian  can  retrace  all  the  various 
steps  of  spiritual  sorrow,  through  which  he  has  passed  ; 
nor  that  all,  who  have  been  brought  to  the  great  Phy- 


278  Christ  the  Healer 

sician  of  souls,  were  led  to  him  by  precisely  the  same 
degree  of  disquietude  and  fear.  In  some  cases  it  has 
pleased  God  to  carry  on  his  work  of  grace  in  the  heart 
by  such  gentle  and  insensible  degrees,  and  so  to  modify 
the  feelings  of  repentance  almost  from  the  first  by  a 
hope  in  his  mercy,  that  the  mind  has  been  saved  from 
that  acuteness  of  suffering,  which  has  been  the  portion 
of  many  repentant  prodigals,  when  returning  to  the 
Lord.  But  in  every  case  there  has  been  some  sense 
of  guilt  and  some  deep  and  humbling  apprehensions 
of  the  danger  and  misery,  in  which  it  has  involved  us. 
In  every  case  the  heart  has  effectually  been  broken. 
There  has  been  a  mourning  for  sin,  and  a  conscious- 
ness that  without  the  interposition  of  Christ,  fear  and 
despair  must  be  the  everlasting  portion  of  the  trans- 
gressor. 

We  may  infer  also  from  the  text,  that  true  contrition 
of  heart  is  one  ofthe  greatest  blessings^  which  God  can 
bestoiv  on  7nan.  Not  that  it  is  in  itself  a  blessing,  for  no 
affliction  for  the  present  is  joyous ;  but  it  will  even- 
tually terminate  in  all  the  blessedness,  which  the  Al- 
mighty can  give  or  his  creatures  receive.  It  brings  the 
sinner  within  reach  of  the  commission  of  a  gracious 
and  powerful  Saviour.  It  opens  his  mind  to  receive  all 
the  healing  and  cheering  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  grace. 
It  is  the  first  step  by  which  a  God,  who  loves  him,  is 
guiding  him  to  heaven  and  preparing  him  to  share  in 
its  joys.  We  have  no  reason  therefore  to  mourn  over 
those  of  our  friends,  whom  the  Lord  has  taught  to 
weep  over  their  manifold  sins.  Their  spiritual  sorrow 
sends  up,  as  it  were,  a  new  ray  of  joy  into  the  king- 
dom of  the  blessed,  and  if  we  were  holy  and  wise  like 
the  angels,  we  too  should  rejoice  over  the  sinner  that 
rcpentcth,  and  his  complaining  and  siglis  would  be  as 
music  in  our  ears. 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  279 

And  yet,  brethren,  it  is  painful  to  think  how  many 
of  us  would  rather  see  our  children  and  friends  trifliiig 
m  the  most  humiliating  scenes  of  folly  and  sin,  than 
see  them  retiring  from  the  crowd,  as  the  stricken  deer 
retires  from  the  herd  to  mourn  and  to  bleed  alone.  In 
the  one  case  we  commend  and  applaud  them  as  inno- 
cent and  wise  ;  in  the  other  we  harass  and  deride  them, 
as  though  they  had  no  hearts  to  be  wounded,  nor  we 
any  pity  to  bestow.  Cruel  as  this  conduct  is  to  our 
friends,  it  is  still  more  cruel  to  ourselves.  They  can 
find  in  their  closets  something,  which  can  bear  them 
up  against  all  the  revilings  of  men  ;  but  we  shall  soon 
have  nothing  to  bear  up  our  souls  under  the  aggravated 
displeasure  of  God.  They  can  go  and  read  in  their 
Bibles,  that  though  their  father  and  mother  forsake  them 
for  righteousness'  sake,  the  Lord  taketh  them  up  ;  while 
we  are  forced  to  read  and  understand  these  prophetic 
words  of  the  psalmist,  *'  Pour  out  thine  indignation  upon 
them,  and  let  thy  wrathful  anger  take  hold  of  them. 
Let  their  habitation  be  desolate,  and  let  none  dwell  in 
their  tents  ;  for  they  persecute  him,  whom  thou  hast 
smitten  ;  and  they  have  talked  to  the  grief  of  those, 
whom  thou  hast  wounded." 

But  here  it  may  be  asked,  "  Is  all  spiritual  sorrow 
to  be  accounted  a  blessing  ?  Is  there  no  spiritual  suf- 
ferer, over  whom  they  who  love  him  may  be  allowed 
to  grieve  and  to  weep  ?  We  saw  our  friend  in  the 
midst  of  gaiety  and  youth  retire  from  a  world;  which 
courted  his  friendship.  We  saw  him  burst  asunder 
bands,  which  we  once  thought  too  strong  to  be  broken. 
We  beheld  him  meekly  and  resolutely  devoting  him- 
self to  the  service  of  the  God,  who  had  redeemed  him. 
With  mingled  feelings  of  anxiety  and  hope,  we  watched 
his  conduct  after  he  had  openly  taken  the  side  of  thr 


380  Christ  the  Healer 

Lord,  and  we  witnessed  in  it  an  ardour  of  love  and  of 
zeal,  which  is  seldom  surpassed.  Many  of  his  former 
associates  thought  him  gloomy  and  wretched,  but  he 
opened  his  heart  to  us,  and  we  found  it  to  be  as  full 
of  peace  and  of  blessedness,  as  heart  could  hold,  buch 
was  year  after  year  his  enviable  state  ;  but  now  all  his 
happiness  is  gone.  His  harp  has  been  long  hung  upon 
the  willows,  and  his  mind  overwhelmed  with  dej,pon- 
dency  and  anguish.  We  see  in  him  the  same  holy  fear 
of  the  Lord,  that  shone  in  him  in  his  happiest  days ; 
the  same  deep  humility,  the  same  hatred  of  sin,  the 
same  love  for  his  Saviour,  the  same  benevolence  to 
man ;  but  we  no  longer  hear  from  him  the  song  of 
trembling  joy,  nor  see  his  countenance  brighten  with  a 
sacred  delight.  His  soul  is  afflicted,  tossed  with  tem- 
pests, and  not  comforted.  May  we  not  then  be  allowed 
to  mourn  over  such  a  sufferer  as  this  ?  Can  such  spiri- 
tual sorrow  as  this  be  esteemed  a  token  of  mercy,  a 
blessing  of  grace  ?  We  dare  not  arraign  the  dispensa- 
tions of  the  Holy  One,  but  we  are  constrained  to  say, 
*  Verily,  thou  art  a  God  that  hidest  thyself,  O  God  of 
Israel,  the  Saviour.'  " 

In  reply  to  such  enquiries  as  these,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  the  dealings  of  God  with  his  saints  are  often 
dark  and  mysterious,  and  that  the  mind  which  attempts 
to  fathom  them,  will  often  ache  and  be  faint.  It  must 
be  acknowledged  also  that  the  servant  of  God  is  some- 
times left  for  a  season  a  prey  to  despondency,  even 
when  his  despondency  has  not  been  preceded  by  a  re- 
lapse into  sin.  But  let  us  not  blindly  impeach  the 
loving  kindness  and  truth  of  Jehovah,  nor  rashly  sus- 
pect the  healing  efficacy  of  his  gospel  of  peace.  Are  we 
sure  that  the  sorrow  we  deplore  has  its  origen  in  spiri- 
tual causes  ?    On  the  contrary,  have  we  not  abundant 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  281 

reason  to  suppose  that  it  must  be  traced  principally  or 
solely  to  natural  causes  ?  In  almost  every  instance,  it 
will  be  found  to  have  been  preceded  by  bodily  indispo- 
sition, long  continued  affliction,  or  excessive  mental 
exertion ;  and  to  be  uniformly  attended  with  a  greater 
or  less  degree  of  debility  of  mind.  The  bewildered  and 
throbbing  head,  the  languid  eye,  the  pallid  countenance, 
the  failing  voice,  the  shivering  frame,  plainly  tell  us 
that  the  anguish  of  the  mind  must  be  ascribed  to  the 
weakness  and  wretchedness  of  the  habitation,  in  which 
it  is  lodged  ;  and  that  the  efforts  of  the  bodily  physician 
must  be  blessed  in  restoring  strength  to  the  frame,  be- 
fore the  spiritual  physician  can  bind  up  and  heal  the 
soul.  The  gospel  of  Christ  was  never  designed  to  re- 
move natural  diseases,  nor  the  apparently  spiritual  dis- 
eases, which  are  connected  with  them,  and  which  are  in 
reality  a  part  of  them.  It  can  do  no  more  in  some  cases 
to  keep  off  the  pressure  of  melancholy,  than  it  can  to 
enable  a  man  to  resist  the  attack  of  a  fever. 

While  therefore  we  weep  with  our  disconsolate 
friend,  and  endeavour  to  lessen  the  burden  of  his  grief 
and  to  pour  balm  into  his  wouiids,  let  us  not  harbour 
any  suspicion  against  the  mercy  and  faithfulness  of  the 
great  Physician  of  souls,  though  he  may  still  go  on 
mourning  in  the  heaviness  of  his  soul.  He  has  not  de- 
serted the  sufferer,  though  he  may  seem  to  have  for- 
saken him.  Even  the  bitterness,  which  has  been  poured 
into  his  cup,  may  prove  to  be  a  salutary  medicine.  It 
may  be  the  means  of  saving  him  from  many  dangers 
and  sins,  into  which  he  would  otherwise  have  fallen ; 
or  of  raising  him  to  a  degree  of  holiness,  usefulness, 
and  happiness,  to  which  he  would  not  otherwise  have 
attained.  It  may  make  him  patient  and  gentle,  tender- 
hearted and  pitiful ;  the  soother  of  the  sorrowful,  and 

Nn 


tS2.  Christ  the  Healer 

the  skilful  comforter  of  the  mourner.  The  same  work 
may  be  going  on  within  his  heart  now,  which  we  once 
saw  going  on  in  the  day  of  his  blessedness.  Yea,  he 
may  be  growing  still  more  rapidly  in  grace  than  he  ever 
was  before,  and  may  soon  come  forth  out  of  the  furnace 
rejoicing  and  purified.  The  rising  sun  is  not  impeded 
in  its  course,  when  its  glory  is  obscured  by  clouds. 
We  see  not  its  progress,  but  while  concealed  from  our 
view,  it  climbs  higher  and  higher,  and  at  length  bursts 
forth  from  the  mists,  which  concealed  it,  shining  in 
meridian  splendour.  And  what,  if  the  friend  whom  we 
love  should  never  again  rejoice  in  the  hope  of  salvation  ? 
What,  if  he  should  go  down  to  the  grave  bowed  down 
with  sorrow  ?  One  moment  of  heaven  will  recompense 
him  for  all  the  bitterness  of  his  life  ;  and  one  smile  from 
the  throne  of  Jehovah  will  raise  him  to  the  summit 
of joy. 

The  text  reminds  us,  lastly,  of  the  sin  and  folly 
of  despair,  if  God  has  sent  his  Son  from  heaven 
to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  and  if  the  Son  whom  he 
has  sent  is  a  faithful  servant  and  a  merciful  and  skilful 
Physician,  where  is  the  broken-h.earied  sinner,  who  has 
not  a  ground  for  encouragement  and  hope  ?  Where  is 
the  dejected  penitent,  who  will  look  on  the  compas- 
sionate Jesus,  and  dare  to  pronounce  his  case  to  be 
hopeless  ?  Your  condition  may  be  pitiable  and  sad. 
No  heart  but  your  own  may  know  half  the  depth  of 
your  iniquity,  nor  half  the  greatness  of  your  fear.  But 
do  not  make  your  guilt  and  your  wretchedness  greater 
by  adding  the  sin  of  unbelief  to  all  your  multiplied 
transgressions.  Christ  has  again  and  again  invited  all 
the  weary  and  heavy  laden  to  come  unto  him  for  rest. 
lie  has  promised  that  he,  who  cometh  unto  him,  shall 
in  no  wise  be  cast  out.     He  has  said  that  whosoever 


of  the  Broken-Hearted.  283 

shall  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be  saved.  Now 
you  cannot  treat  these  invitations  and  promises  as  in- 
sincere and  unmeaning  declarations,  without  impeach- 
ing the  veracity  of  him,  who  is  more  faithful  and  true 
than  any  of  his  creatures,  and  who  in  all  the  ages  of 
eternity  has  never  once  altered  the  thing,  which  has 
gone  out  of  his  mouth.  Why  then  should  this  faithful 
God  single  you  out  to  mock  and  deceive  you  ?  He  has 
healed  many  sinners  as  great  as  you,  and  comforted 
many  as  sorrowful ;  and  he  is  as  ready  to  heal  and  com- 
fort your  hearts,  whenever  you  apply  for  his  aid,  as  he 
was  to  put  away  the  iniquity  of  David,  or  to  pardon  the 
transgression  of  Peter.  The  greatness  of  your  guilt  is 
no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  bestowing  a  pardon  upon 
you ;  neither  is  your  unfitness  to  receive  it  any  dis- 
qualification for  asking  it.  Do  you  need  it?  Do  you 
desire  it  ?  Do  you  find  that  you  can  never  be  happy 
without  it  ?  Are  you  ready  to  sacrifice  all  your  lusts 
and  sins  to  obtain  it  ?  Then  this  is  the  language,  which 
a  God  of  infinite  mercy  addresses  to  you  from  heaven, 
"  Return  unto  me,  for  I  have  redeemed  thee.  Come 
now  and  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord ;  though 
your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow  ; 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool. 
Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden, 
and  I  will  give  you  rest." 


SERMON  XVIII. 


niE  TEARS  OF  JESUS  AT  THE  GRAVE  OF 
LAZARUS. 


ST.  JOHN  Xi.   35. 

Jesus  nvejit. 


1  HE  history,  with  which  these  words  are  connected, 
is  familiar  to  us  all.  It  is  the  history  of  the  resurrection 
of  Lazarus  from  the  dead.  Never  perhaps  was  a  more 
interesting  narrative  penned.  It  is  crowded  with  the 
most  affecting  incidents ;  but  still  the  most  affecting  of 
them  all  is  that  recorded  in  the  text.  It  exhibits  the 
Saviour  to  us  in  so  lovely  and  endearing  a  character, 
that  it  seems  as  though  it  must  constrain  us  all  to  ad- 
mire and  esteem  him,  and  lead  us  to  count  all  things 
but  loss,  so  that  we  may  have  an  interest  in  his  favour, 
and  call  this  blessed  Jesus  our  friend. 

In  proceeding  to  enquire  into  the  probable  causes  of 
the  Saviour's  tears,  it  will  perhaps  be  well  to  consider 
him  in  two  points  of  view  ;  first,  as  the  Friend  of  La- 
zarus and  his  sisters ;  and  then,  as  the  Redeemer  of 
mankind. 

I.  1.  As  the  Friend  of  Lazarus  and  his  family,  our 
Lord  certainly  wept  from  compassion  to  the  sorrowing 
mourners^  whom  he  saw  around  him.  He  was  never  a 
hard-hearted  spectator  of  human  misery.  It  was  com- 
passion  for  a  wretched  world,  which  prevailed  on  him 
to  leave  his  heavenly  glories  the  only  time  he  ever  left 


The  Tears  of  Jesus,  &c.  285 

them,  and  to  take  in  exchange  for  them  the  degradation 
and  miseries  of  the  earth.  It  was  the  same  principle,  that 
led  him  to  shed  tears  over  the  impending  miseries  of 
Jerusalem,  and  to  weep  on  the  present  occasion  with 
his  sorrowful  friends.  His  tears  are  expressly  ascribed 
to  this  source  in  the  thirty  third  verse  of  this  chapter. 
"  When  Jesus  therefore  saw  Mary  weeping,  and  the 
Jews  also  weeping  which  came  with  her,  he  groaned  in 
the  spirit  and  was  troubled."  The  original  expression 
signifies,  "he  troubled  or  afflicted  himself ;"  that  is, 
he  yielded  to  the  power  of  that  sympath}%  which  was 
waiting  to  bring  grief  into  his  heart,  and  suffered  com- 
passion and  sorrow  to  take  possession  of  his  soul. 

Observe  too  that  it  is  said  in  this  verse,  that  the  sor- 
row of  the  Jews  affected  him,  as  well  as  the  sorrow  of 
Mary.  "  When  Jesus  therefore  saw  her  weeping,  and 
tJie  Jews  also  weeping  which  came  with  her,  he  groaned 
in  the  spirit."  Now  we  have  no  reason  to  think  that 
these  Jews  were  either  believers  in  his  Messiahship,  or 
friends  to  his  person.  We  may  infer  therefore,  that  the 
compassion  of  Christ  is  as  extensive  as  human  misery  ; 
that  while  the  sorrows  of  his  beloved  church  touch  his 
heart  the  most  deeply,  and  draw  forth  its  most  lively 
tenderness,  he  has  a  soul,  which  can  feel  for  the  sor- 
rows of  his  enemies,  and  compassionate  the  wretched- 
ness even  of  the  most  guilty. 

What  rich  encouragement  then  is  here  for  every  af- 
flicted sinner  !  What  a  source  of  consolation  and  hope  ! 
What,  though  I  cannot  persuade  myself  that  1  am  one 
of  the  renewed  people  of  God ;  yet  if  my  heart  is  bro- 
ken with  godly  sorrow,  and  I  feel  a  desire-  to  take  the 
burden  of  my  grief  to  Christ,  let  not  a  consciousness 
of  guilt  keep  me  from  prayer ;  let  not  my  sin  hold  me 
back  from  the  throne  of  grace.    Only  let  me  go  to  this 


386  The  Tears  of  Jesus 

compassionate  Saviour,  as  a  care-worn,  helpless,  perish- 
ing sinner,  and  I  shall  be  sure  to  find  a  welcome,  yea, 
and  something  more  than  a  welcome  at  his  throne.  He, 
M'ho  once  wept  on  earth,  has  still  a  heart  as  tender  as 
ever.  He  will  be  sure  therefore  to  give  me  pit}-,  and 
may  give  me  pardon  and  rest. 

2.  Another  cause  of  the  tears  of  Jesus  was  the  loss 
of  a  friend.  The  brother,  for  whom  Mary  and  Martha 
were  weeping,  was  not  a  stranger  to  Christ,  but  one, 
who  was  peculiarly  dear  to  him,  and  had  been  particu- 
larly distinguished  by  him.  The  evangelist  tells  us,  in 
the  fifth  verse  of  this  chapter,  that  Jesus  loved  Lazarus, 
and,  in  the  eleventh  verse,  he  describes  him  as  an- 
nouncing his  death  to  his  disciples  under  the  name  of 
a  friend,  "  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth."  The  word 
slcepeth,  which  he  here  uses,  may  shew  us  perhaps  the 
strength  of  his  affection  for  his  departed  friend,  as  well 
as  the  greatness  of  his  grief  at  his  loss.  He  does  not  at 
once  say  "  Lazarus  is  dead;"  but,  '"  Our  friend  Laza- 
rus sleepeth,"  as  though  he  knew  not  how  to  connect 
the  idea  of  death  wiih  a  name  so  dear  to  him.  The  Sa- 
viour felt  perhaps  as  we  feel,  wlien  we  are  bereaved  of 
a  much  loved  friend.  We  cannot  at  first  persuade  our- 
selves that  the  loss  is  real.  As  we  look  on  the  quiet 
corpse,  we  almost  expect  the  eye-lids  again  to  open, 
and  the  lips  to  move.  And  after  we  have  seen  our 
friend  buried  in  the  earth,  the  same  strange  feeling  is 
still  alive.  We  know  that  he  is  dead,  but  it  seems  at 
seasons  as  though  he  were  only  gone  on  a  journey,  and 
would  soon  return  to  us  to  take  his  usual  share  in  our 
sorrows  and  joys.  This  feeling  aggravates  rather  than 
ameliorates  our  grief,  but  it  shews  the  strength  of  our 
affection  for  the  friend  we  have  lost.  As  we  trace  it 
working  in  the  breast  of  Jesus,  we  may  not  only  behold 


at  the  Grave  of  Lazarus.  287 

with  the  Jews  how  he  loved  Lazarus,  but  we  may  infer 
that  there  is  a  sorrow  of  the  acutest  description,  which 
is  not  forbidden  us,  when  we  are  bereaved  of  those, 
whom  we  love. 

We  are  indeed  forbidden  in  the  gospel  to  sorrow  as 
they  that  have  no  hope  ;  but  we  are  no  where  com- 
manded to  root  out  of  our  hearts  that  feeling  and  ten- 
derness, which  for  the  wisest  of  purposes  our  merciful 
Creator  has  implanted  within  us.  Insensibility  forms 
no  part  of  Christianity.  The  religion  of  Christ  has  no- 
thing  to  do  with  hardness  of  heart.  It  exalts  us  to  the 
dignity  of  children  of  God,  but  it  does  not  destroy  in 
us  those  natural  affections,  which  are  common  to  the 
children  of  men.  While  it  modifies  and  governs,  it 
strengthens  them,  and  bends  them  to  its  gracious 
purposes. 

Hence  the  liveliest  feelings  of  sorrow,  are  not  incon- 
sistent with  the  Christian  character.  Abraham  was  an 
eminent  servant  of  God  and  full  of  faith  in  his  promises, 
and  yet  when  his  beloved  wife  died  in  Kirjath-arba, 
"  Abraham  came  to  mourn  for  Sarah,  and  to  weep  for 
her."  They  were  devout  men,  who  carried  Stephen  to 
his  burial,  and  yet  "  they  made  great  lamentation  over 
him."  A  want  of  feeling  under  affliction,  a  despising 
of  it,  is  as  much  to  be  guarded  against,  as  fainting  or 
despair.  *'■  My  son,  despise  not  thou  the  chastening  of 
the  Lord,"  is  as  much  the  language  of  God,  as  the 
command  not  to  faint  when  we  are  rebuked  of  him. 
To  be  stricken,  and  yet  not  to  grieve,  is  to  expose  our- 
selves tQ  the  displeasure  of  the  Almighty,  and  to  the 
sharpest  arrows  of  his  quiver. 

While  our  grief  therefore  is  mingled  with  resignation, 

and  a  child-like  submission  to  the  will  of  that  heavenly 

^         Father;  who  has  smitten  us ;  while  it  is  not  suffered  to 


288  TJie  Tears  of  Jesus 

impair  our  spiritual  comforts,  our  hopes,  and  our 
graces ;  let  the  heart  mourn,  let  the  tear  flow.  The 
man  of  the  world  may  condemn  us  as  childish  and  weak, 
and  here  and  there  an  inexperienced  professor  of  reli- 
gion, may  suspect  the  sincerity  of  our  faith  ;  but  Jesus 
will  neither  condemn  nor  suspect  us.  He  will  remem- 
ber his  own  tears,  and  will  not  be  offended  by  ours. 

3.  The  tears  of  Christ  might  be  occasioned,  thirdly, 
by  the  instance  noxv  before  him  of  the  instabihty^  of  all 
human  happiness.  The  habitation,  which  he  now  found 
a  house  of  mourning,  he  had  often  found  a  house  of 
peace.  The  friend,  whose  grave  he  was  approaching, 
had  been  but  a  short  time  before  the  member  of  as 
happy  a  family,  as  ever  the  sun  arose  on.  Formerly 
Mary  used  to  sit  at  his  feet,  listening  with  the  most 
profound  attention  to  every  word  that  he  uttered,  and 
treasuring  up  his  sayings  with  gratitude  and  reverence 
in  her  heart ;  now  she  lies  prostrate  before  him,  bathed 
in  tears,  unable  even  to  welcome  him  to  her  sorrowful 
home,  and  only  able  to  say,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  my  brother  had  not  died." 

Thus  short-lived  and  precarious  is  all  the  earthly 
happiness  of  man.  The  scene  before  us  is  an  every  day 
scene.  It  is  only  a  picture  of  what  is  happening  con- 
tinually in  the  habitations  around  us,  and  what  may 
soon  happen  in  our  own.  Our  family  may  be  as  united, 
as  the  family  of  Mary  and  her  sister  and  Lazarus  once 
was  ;  we  may,  like  them,  honour  the  blessed  Jesus,  and 
Jesus  may  love  us  and  take  up  his  abode  with  us ;  but 
mutual  love  and  heart-felt  piety,  though  they  may 
heighten  the  joys  of  our  household  and  alleviate  its 
sorrows,  will  not  keep  sickness  and  death  away  from 
us.  Our  children  are  still  subject  to  the  stroke  of  death, 
and  are  as  liable  as  others  to  become  orphans  and  fa- 


at  the  Grave  of  Lazarus.  289 

therless.  We  may  still  be  called  on  to  follow  our  bro- 
ther to  the  grave,  or  our  brother  may  soon  have  to 
shed  his  unavailing  tears  over  us.  The  wife  of  our  bo- 
som may  be  as  pious  as  Ruth  or  as  Hannah,  but  her 
piety  will  not  exempt  her  from  that  mortality,  whicbis 
the  common  lot  of  man ;  nor  will  her  love  for  her  hus- 
band cause  him  to  live  for  ever. 

It  is  a  difficult  lesson  to  learn,  brethren,  but  it  is  one 
which  can  never  be  learned  too  soon,  that  all  our  earthly 
comforts  are  merely  lent  to  us  for  a  season,  and  that 
an  uncertain  season ;  that  we  may  be  required  to  part 
with  them  long  before  we  have  ceased  to  love  and  need 
them ;  that  the  prop  may  be  knocked  from  under  us,  at 
the  very  moment  when  it  seems  the  strongest,  and  we 
most  need  it  to  bear  our  weight.  Thus  it  ever  has 
been,  and  it  is  for  our  good  that  thus  it  ever  should  be. 
We  are  ready  to  make  idols  of  our  blessings,  even 
though  we  are  aware  of  tiieir  frailty,  but  we  should 
cleave  to  them  still  more  sinfully  if  we  knew  that  they 
were  never  to  be  removed.  Our  duty  then  is  plain. 
We  must  cease  to  make  flesh  our  arm.  Let  us  love 
our  children  and  our  friends,  but  let  us  not  lean  on 
them ;  let  us  not  deem  them  essential  to  our  happiness. 
God  can  make  the  Christian  happy  without  the  help  of 
any  of  his  creatures,  and  he  must  not  deem  himself  a 
Christian,  who  is  not  satisfied  with  his  God ;  who  is 
not  content  to  lay  his  head  on  his  heavenly  Father's 
bosom  and  say,  This  is  my  rest  for  ever.  Here  is  my 
hiding-place  and  my  refuge.  Here  is  the  source  of  my 
blessedness,  and  the  spring  of  my  joy.  What,  though 
I  be  left  childless  and  friendless  on  the  earth  ?  My 
Saviour  is  not  dead  ;  my  Father  has  not  ceased  to  be 
with  me.  What,  though  all  the  streams  be  dried  up  ? 
The  fountain  of  living  waters  is  full,  and  as  long  as  this 

Oo 


:S90  The  Tears  of  Jesus 

fountain  is  open  to  me,  I  can  be  happy.  I  can  drink  of 
it,  and  forget  my  poverty,  and  remember  my  misery 
no  more. 

Here  also  is  a  lesson  for  those,  in  whose  families  God 
is  not  feared  nor  loved  ;  and  it  is  awful  to  think  how 
many  such  families  there  are  in  this  Christian  land. 
The  name  of  the  Being,  who  made  us,  is  not  honoured 
in-  many  of  our  houses.  We  do  not  call  upon  our 
household  to  worship  him  in  the  morning,  nor  to  praise 
him  in  the  evening.  But  this  conduct  is  as  much  op- 
posed to  our  own  interest,  as  it  is  cruel  to  our  families 
and  ungrateful  to  our  God  ;  for  what  shall  we  do,  bre- 
thren, when  trouble,  disease,  or  death  comes  into  our 
habitations  and  strips  us  of  every  thing  we  love  ?  What 
shall  we  do,  when  we  look  around  us  for  consolation, 
and,  like  Noah's  dove,  find  no  resting  place  even  for 
the  sole  of  our  foot?  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  laugh  at  the 
Bible,  and  despise  the  gospel  in  the  hour  of  health  and 
of  ease  ;  but  health  and  ease  will  not  last  for  ever.  An 
hour  of  tribulation  may  come  5  an  hour  in  which  we 
would  give  the  world  to  have  the  faith  and  hope  of  tlic 
Christian ;  to  have  that  ark  to  flee  to,  which  shelters 
him  so  peacefully  amidst  the  storms  of  life;  to  have 
but  that  simple  belief  in  the  Bible,  that  simple  depen- 
dance  on  God,  which  we  now  make  light  of,  and  per- 
haps turn  into  a  jest.  O  if  there  be  a  foolish  being  in 
the  universe,  it  is  the  man  who  finds  himself  living  in  a 
world  so  full  of  trouble  as  this,  and  yet  despises  the 
only  thing,  whioJi  can  support  and  comfort  him  under 
its  sorrows. 

II.  Let  us  now  proceed  a  step  further,  and  view  the 
tears  of  our  Lord,  not  merely  as  the  tears. of  a  tender- 
hearted and  benevolent  man,  but  as  the  tears  of  the 
great  Ucdci^mcr  of  mankind. 


at  the  Grave  of  Lazarus.  S91 

His  sorrow  undoubtedly  arose  in  part,  and  perhaps 
principally  from  those  feelings,  which  he  possessed  in 
common  with  his  brethren  ;  but  we  must  not  forget 
that  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  as  well  as  the  Son  of  man, 
and  must  consequently  have  had  thoughts  arise  in  his 
mind,  as  he  looked  on  the  grave  of  the  departed  Laza- 
rus, into  which  no  merely  human  mourner  could  have 
entered. 

1.  Of  many  of  these  sources  of  sorrow  we  are  una- 
ble to  form  the  faintest  conception ;  but  we  may  rea- 
sonably suppose  that  the  tears  of  the  Saviour  were 
drawn  from  him  partly  by  the  view  here  afforded  him  of 
the  degradation  of  human  nature.  He  was  standing  near 
a  grave,  and  with  a  mind  such  as  his,  he  could  not  for- 
get the  original  condition  of  the  creature,  who  was 
there  turning  to  rottenness  and  dust.  His  thoughts 
must  have  gone  further  back  than  the  house  of  Mary. 
He  must  have  contrasted  the  scene  now  before  him  with 
that,  which  he  once  beheld  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  the 
earthly  paradise  of  God.  He  remembered  what  man 
once  was ;  he  thought  of  what  he  might  still  have 
been  ;  and  as  he  looked  on  the  tomb  of  Lazarus,  he 
wept. 

And  who,  brethren,  can  seriously  think  of  the  grave, 
and  not  see  it  to  be  in  this  point  of  view  a  mournful 
spectacle  indeed  ?  It  was  not  originally  the  house  ap- 
pointed for  all  living.  God  did  not  design  it  as  the  end 
of  all  men.  We  chose  it  for  ourselves.  It  was  our  own 
hand,  which  implanted  the  seeds  of  death  in  our  frames, 
and  made  our  poor  bodies  liable  to  corruption. 

When  also  we  look  on  the  two  worlds,  between 
which  the  grave  is  situated,  and  view  them  as  the  ha- 
bitations of  our  fallen  race,  our  painful  searchings  of 
heart  are  not  diminished.     It  is  not  a  flowery  path, 


S93  The  Tears  of  Jesus 

which  leads  us  to  the  tomb,  neither  is  the  country  be- 
yond it  always  found  to  be  a  land  of  rest.  We  pass 
through,  many  a  scene  of  sorrow  to  this  dreary  home, 
and  in  many  instances  we  find  it  to  be  only  the  way 
into  a  world  of  greater  suffering  and  still  keener  an- 
guish. Who  can  contemplate  the  multiplied  millions 
of  mankind,  thus  going  century  after  century  to  the 
grave,  and  thus  issuing  out  of  it,  and  not  drop  a  com- 
passionate tear  over  the  awful  degradation  of  our  state? 
Man  indeed  is  guilty.  No  load  of  misery  will  ever  out- 
weigh his  sinfulness.  But  then  the  guilty  may  be  pi- 
tied, and  our  compassion  may  be  extended  even  to  the 
sinful. 

It  must  be  remembered  also  that  our  degraded  state 
was  more  likely  to  affect  Christ,  than  it  is  us.  None 
can  bthoid  a  stately  building  beat  down  by  violence, 
without  being  moved  ;  but  it  is  the  architect,  the  man 
whose  skill  and  industry  raised  the  fabric,  who  weeps 
the  most  bitterly  over  its  ruins.  Now  man  was  the 
workmanship  of  Christ.  He  built  him  at  first  a  pure 
and  holy  temple  for  the  residence  of  God.  How  then 
must  his  soul  have  been  grieved,  when  he  saw  the 
work  of  his  hands  laid  waste ;  when  he  saw  the  build- 
ing he  had  raised,  forsaken  by  its  great  inhabitant,  and 
made  a  desolation,  retaining  indeed  amidst  its  ruins 
some  faint  traces  of  its  original  glory,  but  only  enough 
to  shfAv  the  greatness  of  its  degradation  I 

2.  Christ  might  have  been  ltd  to  weep  at  the  tomb 
of  Lazarus,  by  the  unbelief  and  obstinacy  of  many,  xvhe 
surrounded  him.  He  had  already  performed  many  mira- 
cles and  done  many  mighty  works,  in  order  to  con- 
vince the  Jews  that  he  was  indeed  their  promised  Mes- 
siah ;  but  they  still  called  him  the  carpenter's  son,  and 
refused  to  receive  him  as  the  Son  of  the  Highest.    But 


at  the  Grave  of  Lazarus.  S93 

Jesus  did  not  abandon  them.  He  was  now  about  to 
perform  in  their  sight  a  miracle  of  a  still  more  extra- 
ordinary nature,  than  any  they  had  witnessed  before  ; 
one,  which  seemed  calculated  to  overcome  the  most 
deeply  rooted  prejudices,  and  to  remove  the  most  stub- 
born infidelity.  He  foresaw  however  that  even  this  ex- 
ertion of  his  power  would  be  lost  on  the  greater  part 
of  the  multitude  around  him  ;  that  while  some  of  them 
would  be  led  to  believe  on  him,  others  would  only 
have  their  hatred  against  him  increased,  and  be  more 
earnest  to  effect  his  destruction.  Hence  he  was  troubled 
in  spirit  and  wept. 

It  might  indeed  have  been  supposed  that  even  the 
compassionate  Jesus  could  not  have  wept  over  such 
obstinate  sinners  as  these  ;  that  he  would  have  left  theni 
to  the  misery  they  chose  with  emotions  of  indignation 
rather  than  of  sorrow ;  but  Jesus  tenderly  loved  the 
Jews.  He  remembered  that  they  were  the  children  of 
Abraham,  his  ancient  friend  ;  and  he  could  not  see 
them  madly  rushing  on  to  ruin  without  shedding  over 
them  the  tear  of  pity.  Though  they  were  his  ent- mies 
and  were  thirsting  for  his  blood,  he  could  not  willingly 
abandon  the  house  of  Israel  to  the  miseries  prepared 
for  them  ;  but,  like  a  merciful  judge  he  wept  over  the 
obdurate  criminals,  whom  justice  required  him  to  give 
up  to  destruction. 

Indeed  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  the  Redeemer's 
sorrow  while  he  dwelt  upon  the  earth,  was  the  ingrati- 
tude, which  he  received  from  the  sinners,  whom  he 
was  enduring  so  much  to  save.  He  came  unto  his  own, 
and  his  own  received  him  not;  and  when  he  went  to 
others,  he  experienced  the  same  treatment.  Tiiey 
poured  contempt  on  him,  and  would  not  take  him  for 
their  Saviour  and  their  Lord.  He  was  despised  and  re- 


294  The  Tears  of  Jesus 

jected  of  men,  and  it  was  this,  which  made  him  so 
much  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  so  deeply  acquainted  with 
grief. 

We  know  not  how  much  our  own  thoughdessness 
and  unbehef  contributed  to  fill  up  that  cup  of  bitter 
sorrow,  of  which  the  Redeemer  drank.  He  foresaw 
how  many  of  us  would  make  light  of  him,  and  of  all 
he  was  about  to  do  and  suffer  for  our  sakes  ;  how  con- 
temptuously we  should  treat  his  gospel,  and  how  cru- 
elly we  should  throw  away  our  souls.  Who  can  tell 
but  that  even  when  wet  ping  at  Bethany,  he  thought  of 
some  careless  sinner  now  in  this  house  of  prayer; 
some  poor  trifler,  who  is  now  hearing  with  unconcern 
of  his  love  and  tears ;  some  hard-hearted  transgressor, 
who,  rather  than  part  with  his  follies  and  sins,  will  con- 
sent to  lose  heaven  and  his  soul  ?  Who  can  tell  but 
that  some  of  us  might  have  caused  the  blessed  Jesus 
to  heave  an  additional  sigh  in  this  sorrowful  hour, 
and  have  given  to  his  troubled  breast  an  additional 
pang  ? 

How  is  it  then,  brethren,  that  we  ourselves  are  so 
litde  affected  by  that  folly  and  guilt,  which  affected 
Jesus  so  much  ?  How  is  it  that  while  he  wept  over  our 
contempt  of  his  gospel,  we  can  so  often  be  warned  of 
it,  and  yet  never  be  moved  ;  we,  who  are  so  deeply 
concerned  in  it,  and  on  whose  heads  it  is  bringing 
down  so  much  misery  and  wrath  ?  The  reason  is  plain. 
We  know  not  the  value  of  salvation.  We  know  not 
the  worth  of  our  souls.  Sin  and  the  world  hold  undi- 
vided possession  of  our  hearts,  and  we  have  not  a  seri- 
ous thought  to  spare  for  eternity. 

These  then  were  some  of  the  probable  causes  of  the 
tears,  which  the  Saviour  shed  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus. 
He  wept  as  a  man  over  the  sorrows  of  his  brethren,  at 


at  the  Grave  of  Lazarus.  295 

the  loss  of  a  friend,  and  from  a  contemplation  of  the 
instability  of  all  human  happiness.  He  wept  as  the  Re- 
deemer of  men  over  the  degradation  of  mankind,  and 
the  guilt  and  wretchedness  of  impenitent  sinners. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  inference  we  may  draw 
from  the  tears  of  Jesus  is  this  ;  tenderness  of  heart  is 
not  inconsistent  with  greatness  of  mind>  We  see  both 
these  graces  exemplified  in  the  highest  degree  in  the 
history  before  us,  and  throughout  the  whole  course  of 
the  Saviour's  life.  And  yet  many  of  the  followers  of 
Jesus  have  represented  the  lively  emotions  of  sympathy 
as  a  weakness,  which  as  Christians  and  men  we  ought 
not  to  encourage.  It  is  true  that  these  emotions  ought 
to  be  modified,  and  duly  regulated ;  but  as  for  sup- 
pressing the  warm  feelings  of  friendship,  the  workings 
of  compassion,  or  the  tears  of  pity,  the  religion  of  Ciirist 
requires  not  this  at  our  hands.  On  the  contrary,  it  calls 
upon  us  to  cherish  these  affections ;  to  send  every  cavil- 
ler against  them  to  Bethany  and  Calvary,  and  bid  him 
look  on  the  Being,  who  is  weeping  and  dying  there. 

How  lovely  a  character  is  the  character  of  Jesus 
Christ!  Nothing  more  endears  to  us  a  man  of  exalted 
rank,  than  to  see  him  entering  into  the  sorrows  of  the 
poor  and  the  mean ;  but  here  is  one  weeping  with  the 
sorrowful,  who  is  higher  than  the  highest  angel,  and  in 
comparison  with  whom  the  greatest  of  the  sons  of  men 
is  but  as  a  worm  or  as  a  moth.  How  is  it  then,  brethren, 
that  many  of  us  think  so  meanly  of  this  Jesus?  The 
great  reason  is  this  ;  we  love  sin,  and  we  therefore  hate 
every  thing  which  is  opposed  to  it.  If  Christ  did  not 
wound  our  pride  and  condemn  our  practices ;  if  he 
sanctioned  our  opinions,  our  follies,  and  vices  in  this 
world,  and  promised  us  something  like  a  Mahometan 
paradise  in  the  next,  all  would  be  well  j  we  should  ad- 


S96  The  Tears  of  Jesus,  &c. 

mire  his  character,  and  instead  of  pouring  contempt  on 
his  gospel,  his  nninisters,  and  his  servants,  we  should 
uphold  and  applaud  them  all. 

We  may  infer,  lastly,  from  the  text,  that  they^  who 
are  the  friends  of  the  compassionate  Saviour,  may  find 
in  the  tenderness  of  his  heart,  a  never-failing  source  of 
encouragement  and  consolation.  Where  is  that  Jesus 
now,  who  once  wept  with  Mary  and  Martha  at  the 
graxc  of  their  brother?  "  He  is  exalted  to  the  right 
hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high."  How  is  he  there  em- 
ployed ?  ^'  He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us." 
But  does  he  remember  the  feelings  and  workings  of  his 
mind,  when  on  earth  ?  Does  Bethany  still  live  in  his 
memory  ?  It  does,  and  all  the  sorrow  and  anguish  he 
experienced  there.  The  Bible  tells  us  that  he  still  re- 
tains the  same  human  nature,  that  he  had  then  ;  and  is 
touched  as  deeply  with  all  our  infirmities,  and  can  enter 
as  experimentally  into  all  our  sorrows. 

This  thought  is  a  sweet  and  encouraging  one,  my 
brethren,  and  cannot  hold  too  high  a  place  in  our  minds. 
The  more  it  is  cherished  within  us,  the  more  shall  we 
enjoy  of  the  blessedness  of  religion  ;  the  more  peaceful 
shall  we  be  in  tribulation,  and  the  more  thankful  in 
prosperity.  It  will  make  our  heavenly  Friend  still  dearer 
to  our  hearts,  increase  our  longings  after  the  heaven  in 
which  he  dwells,  and  give  a  new  and  unspeakable 
sweetness  to  our  communion  with  God. 


SERMON  XIX. 


GOD  THE  ETERNAL  DWELLING  PLACE  OF 
HIS  SERVANTS. 


PSALM  XC.   1,  2. 

Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  dwelling-place  in  all  generations.  Before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst  formed  the  earth 
and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  thou  art  God. 


As  we  contemplate  the  world  we  inhabit,  we  are  often 
tempted  to  conclude  that  its  firm  foundations  never  can 
be  moved,  and  its  scenes  of  beauty  and  magnificence 
never  be  destroyed.  But  while  we  are  admiring  and 
speculating,  the  fashion  of  this  world  is  rapidly  passing 
away,  and  its  glory  hastening  to  an  everlasting  end. 
The  heavens  above  us  too  must  perish.  The  sun  and 
the  stars  in  their  courses  are  measuring  out  their  own 
appointed  years,  as  well  as  ours  ;  and  when  their  num- 
bered revolutions  are  completed,  the  sun  will  cease  to 
rise  and  the  moon  to  shine,  the  stars  of  heaven  will  fall, 
and  the  place  thereof  know  them  again  no  more.  And 
yet,  brethren,  we  who  are  surrounded  by  these  fading 
worlds  are  not  thus  limited  in  our  duration.  We  shall 
be  alive  ages  and  ages  after  the  earth  has  been  con- 
sumed, and  the  heavens  dissolved,  and  shall  still  want  a 
habitation  to  dwell  in,  a  refuge,  and  a  home.  Where 
then  is  this  habitation  to  be  found  ?  The  psalmist  tells 
us.  He  bids  us  lift  up  our  eyes  to  the  throne  of  God, 
and  shews  us  a  dwelling-place  there,  standing  on  ever- 
lasting foundations,   and  able  to  receive  and  shelter 


^98         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Place 

every  immortal  soul.  *^  Lord,"  says  he,  "  thou  hast 
been  our  dwelling-place  in  all  generations.  Before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting,  thou  art  God." 

The  subjects  of  consideration  suggested  to  us  by 
these  words,  are  three; — the  eternity  of  God  ;  the  rela- 
tion, in  which  this  eternal  God  stands  to  his  servants  ; 
and  the  feelings,  which  the  contemplation  of  him  as 
their  everlasting  dwelling-place,  ought  to  excite  in 
their  minds. 

I.  Our  attention  is  directed,  first,  to  the  eternity  of 
God.  And  here  we  perceive  at  once  that  we  have  a 
subject  before  us,  which  baffles  all  our  enquiries.  We 
use  the  wc»:d  eternity,  and  we  seem  to  understand  it, 
but  no  sooner  do  we  strive  to  comprehend  its  meaning, 
than  we  are  startled  to  discover  how  little  we  can  know  of 
it.  Like  men  attempting  to  fathom  a  bottomless  sea,  or 
to  trace  the  shores  of  a  boundless  ocean,  we  enquire 
and  labour;  but  all  the  fruit  of  our  labours  is  an  hum- 
bling conviction  of  our  own  weakness,  and  an  over- 
powering sense  of  tlie  divine  greatness.  But  though 
our  feeble  minds  cannot  grasp  the  eternity  of  the  Al- 
mighty, there  is  nothing  presumptuous  or  sinful  in 
making  it  the  frequent  subject  of  our  meditations.  The 
Scripture  allows,  yea,  invites  us  to  think  of  it,  and  has 
connected  with  the  thought  of  it,  some  of  the  svveetest 
and  richest  consolations,  that  the  gospel  can  bestow. 
The  psalmist  evidently  speaks  of  it  in  the  text  as  a 
subject  of  contemplation,  delightful  and  cheering  to 
his  soul ;  and  the  elevating  language,  which  he  employs 
in  describing  it,  is  calculated  to  impress  a  deep  and 
lasting  conviction  of  its  importance  on  our  minds. 

1.   He  tells  us,  first,  that  the  existence  of  God  never 


I 


of  his  Sei^ants.  399 

had  qr-hrginning.  "  Before  the  mountains  were  brought 
forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world, 
even  from  everlasting,  thou  art  God."  He  here  brings 
before  our  view  the  lofty  mountains,  which  seem  to 
oppress  the  earth  with  their  v/eight  j  and  while  we  are 
admiring  their  solidity  and  grandeur,  he  tells  us  that 
before  these  were  formed  his  God  lived.  He  then  bids 
us  look  on  the  earth  itself,  and  as  we  are  thinking  of 
the  ages  which  have  passed  away  since  its  foundations 
were  first  laid,  he  tells  us  again  that  before  the  earth 
was  built,  the  living  God  was  reigning  on  his  throne. 
Neither  does  he  leave  us  here.  Our  eyes  are  now  di- 
rected to  the  rolling  worlds  around  us,  and  when  we 
begin  to  contemplate  their  number,  vastness,  and  mag- 
nificence, we  are  ready  to  imagine  that  the  day  of  their 
creation  must  have  been  the  beginning  of  Jehovah's 
endless  life ;  but  no ;  "  Before  the  world  was  made, 
thou  art  God."  And  here  the  psalmist  stops.  He  leads 
us  back  as  far  as  our  imaginations  can  accompany  him, 
and  then  intimates  to  us  that  we  are  no  nearer  the 
source  of  the  Almighty's  existence,  than  we  were  at 
first ;  that  if  we  would  discover  the  beginning  of  his 
life  and  glory,  we  must  seek  it  in  the  abyss  of  that 
eternity,  which  lies  beyond  the  remotest  boundaries 
of  time. 

2.  But  the  text  reminds  us,  also,  that  the  existence 
of  Godwin  never  have  an  end ;  that  it  stretches  into  fu- 
turity farther  than  our  minds  can  follow  it,  or  angels 
trace  it ;  that  it  is  an  everlasting  life,  a  deep  and  mys- 
terious stream,  which  never  began,  and  will  never  cease 
to  flow.  '*  From  everlasting  to  everlasting,  thou  art 
God."  And  how  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  Who  can  de- 
prive him  of  his  existence,  who  received  it  of  none, 
and  owes  to  none  its  preservation  ?    He  is  the  incor- 


300         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Place 

ruptible  God,  and  decay  and  death  can  never  touch 
him.  He  is  the  Lord  God  omnipotent,  and  no  arm  can 
overcome  him.  He  is  the  unchangeable  Jehovah,  and 
no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning  can  come 
near  him.  Hence  says  the  psalmist,  "  Thou,  O  God, 
hast  laid  of  old  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  and  the  hea- 
vens are  the  work  of  thy  hands.  They  shall  perish,  but 
thou  shalt  endure ;  yea,  all  of  them  shall  wax  old  like  a 
garment,  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  change  them,  and  they 
shall  be  changed ;  but  thou  art  the  same,  and  thy  years 
shall  have  no  end." 

Observe  too,  brethren,  that  the  eternity,  which  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel  inhabits,  is  his  own  eternity.  He 
sits  on  no  borrowed  throne,  but  "  hath  life  in  himself," 
and  is  the  author  of  his  own  boundless  existence.  We 
ourselves  are  immortal  beings,  but  we  owe  our  eternity 
to  another.  We  shall  live  for  ever  simply  because  it  is 
the  will  of  him,  who  gave  us  life,  to  preserve  us  in  be- 
in  jr.     Without  him   our  souls  are  as  liable  to  be  de- 

o 

stroyed  as  our  bodies ;  yea,  let  him  for  one  moment  be 
unmindful  of  an  immortal  spirit,  and  in  that  very  mo- 
ment that  spirit  has  ceased  to  be.  This  truth  is  not  suf- 
ficiently remembered  by  us.  We  seem  to  think  that 
our  souls  have  some  natural  claim  on  the  eternity  be- 
fore us,  and  that  omnipotence  itself  has  no  power  to 
destroy  them  ;  but  the  thought  is  vain.  The  God,  who 
is  the  father  of  our  spirits,  could  annihilate,  as  easily  as 
he  made  them.  Crowded  as  is  the  universe  with  the 
living  heirs  of  immortality,  a  word  from  his  lips  would 
leave  it  for  ever  without  an  inhabitant,  and  turn  his  own 
heaven  into  a  desert,  without  a  spirit  rejoicing  in  it,  or 
an  angel  worshipping  before  his  throne.  How  forcibly 
does  this  consideration  remind  us  of  our  dependence 
on  God,  and  of  the  mighty  and  incomprehensible  exer- 


of  his  &ei^ants.  301 

cise  of  power  and  of  goodness,  by  which  he  is  every 
moment  preserving  in  existence  the  beings  he  has 
formed !  How  low  in  the  dust  does  it  sink  the  most 
exalted  of  his  creatures ;  and  with  what  overpowering 
feelings  of  humility,  adoration,  and  gratitude,  does  it 
constrain  them  to  cast  down  before  his  throne  the 
crowns  of  their  glory  ! 

II.  Such  then  is  the  view,  which  the  psalmist  has 
here  given  us  of  the  eternity  of  God ;  and  faint  as  our 
conceptions  may  be  of  it,  we  must  surely  be  ready  to 
enquire,  with  no  common  degree  of  anxiety  and  earn- 
estness, what  connection  there  is  between  this  everlast- 
ing Being  and  ourselves,  and  in  what  relation  he  stands 
to  the  people,  who  love  and  obey  him.  The  text  an- 
swers this  enquiry  ;  and  how  graciously  does  it  answer 
it !  It  represents  the  Creator  of  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  as  the  dwelling-place  of  his  servants,  as  their  ha- 
bitation, their  refuge,  the  house  of  their  rest. 

It  might  have  been  expected  that  this  description  of 
the  divine  eternity  would  have  been  employed  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  shew  forth  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  and 
to  make  his  enemies  tremble  before  him ;  but  no  word 
of  terror  accompanies  it.  He  employs  it  to  teach  us  how 
ready  the  everlasting  Father  is  to  shelter,  and  how  able 
to  bless  us.  We  are  reminded  of  the  power,  by  which 
he  formed  the  earth  and  the  worlds ;  we  are  reminded 
of  the  eternity,  in  which  he  dwelt  before  there  was  a 
creature  to  know  and  adore  him;  and  for  what  end? — 
that  a  world  of  destitute  sinners  may  be  encouraged  to 
consign  themselves  to  his  care,  and  to  trust  in  his  love. 

Neither  is  this  the  only  passage  of  Scripture,  in 
which  we  find  the  greatness  of  the  Almighty  brought 
forward  to  invite  and  to  cheer,  instead  of  to  dismay  and 
alarm.    The  twenty-ninth  psalm  supplies  us  with  a  re- 


303         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Place 

markable  instance  of  this  mode  of  reasoning  with  the 
suspicions  and  fears  of  the  humble.  It  begins  with 
calling  upon  the  great  and  the  mighty  to  give  unto  the 
Lord  the  glory  due  unto  his  name.  He  is  described  as 
a  powerful  king,  thundering  on  the  waters,  breaking  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon  with  his  voice,  making  the  moun- 
tains dance,  shaking  the  wilderness,  laying  open  the 
forests,  and  controulling  the  water  floods.  And  for 
what  purpose  is  all  this  magnificent  imagery  employed? 
Only  to  introduce  and  give  force  to  this  gracious  pro- 
mise, "The  Lord  will  give  strength  unto  his  people; 
the  Lord  will  bless  his  people  with  peace."  A  similar 
instance  occurs  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  prophecy  of 
Nahum.  After  a  description  of  the  power  and  majesty 
of  the  Deity,  vvhi';h  almost  overwhelms  the  mind  with 
its  grandeur,  the  goodness  of  the  I,iord  is  abruptly  made 
the  theme  of  the  prophet's  song.  "  The  Lord,"  says 
he,  "  hath  his  way  in  the  whirlwind  and  in  the  storm, 
and  the  clouds  are  the  dust  of  his  feet ;"  and  then  in 
the  midst  of  trembling  mountains,  falling  rocks,  and  a 
burning  world,  this  small  voice  of  mercy  is  heard  issu- 
ing from  his  throne,  "  The  Lord  is  good,  a  btrong  hold 
in  the  day  of  trouble,  and  he  knoweth  them  that  trust 
in  him."  O  brethren,  how  strange  is  it  that  so  glorious 
a  God  should  thus  labour  to  strengthen  and  comfort 
the  fallen  children  of  men  !  but  how  much  stranger 
still,  thcit  there  should  be  found  among  the  people  who 
know  him,  one  heart  desponding  and  aching  ! 

1.  But  let  us  proceed  to  take  a  somewhat  closer  view 
of  the  figurative  description,  which  is  given  us  of  the 
living  God  in  the  text.  He  is  called  our  dwelling-place, 
and  the  term  obviously  implies  that  he  is  to  his  servants 
a  refuge  from  dangers.  We  are  all  encompassed  by 
many  and  great  dangers.     Some  of  them  we  perceive 


of  his  Servants,  303 

and  feel,  but  there  are  innumerable  evils  besetting  us 
every  moment,  of  which  we  are  altogether  unconscious. 
Our  situation  too  is  as  helpless,  as  it  is  perilous. 
Mountains  are  ready  to  fall  on  us,  and  yet  we  are  so 
feeble,  that  a  worm  can  destroy,  or  a  moth  crush  us. 
But  God  can  preserve  us  in  the  midst  of  all  our  dan- 
gers ;  and  if  we  have  entered  into  that  covenant  which 
he  has  made  by  sacrifice  with  his  chosen,  he  has  pledged 
himself  to  watch  over  and  shelter  us,  to  make  our  situa- 
tion in  this  world  of  peril  as  secure,  as  though  we  were 
already  standing  in  his  own  peaceful  heavens.  Even 
our  worthless  bodies  are  the  objects  of  his  care.  He 
has  commanded  one  of  his  servants  to  tell  us  that  he 
keepeth  all  our  bones,  so  that  not  one  of  them  is  bro- 
ken ;  and  he  has  sent  his  own  Son  from  heaven  to  as- 
sure us  that  he  numbers  even  the  hairs  of  our  head. 
As  for  our  souls,  they  are  as  safe  in  his  hands  as  om- 
nipotence can  make  them.  We  have  only  to  take  refuge 
under  the  shadow  of  his  wing,  and  Satan  cannot  irijure 
nor  temptation  overcome  us ;  our  corruptions  may  ha- 
rass, but  they  cannot  prevail  against  us  ;  and  the  world, 
instead  of  triumphing  over  us  and  leading  us  captive, 
will  be  trampled  underneath  our  feet.  "  1  will  say  of 
the  Lord,"  exclaimed  the  confiding  prophet,  as  he  con- 
templated the  strength  and  safety  of  the  habitation,  to 
which  he  had  fied,  "  1  will  say  of  the  Lord,  he  is  my 
refuge  and  my  fortress,  my  God,  in  him  will  I  trust. 
Surely  he  shall  deliver  thee  from  the  snare  of  the  fowler, 
and  from  the  noisome  pestilence.  He  shall  cover  thee  with 
his  feathers,  and  under  his  wings  shalt  thou  trust.  His 
truth  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler.  Thou  shalt  not 
be  afraid  for  the  terror  by  niglit,  nor  for  the  arrow  that 
flieth  by  day,  nor  for  the  pestilence  that  walketh  in 
darkness,  nor  for  the  destruction  that  wasteth  at  noon- 


304         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Flace 

day.  Because  thou  hast  made  the  Lord,  which  is  my 
refuge,  even  the  Most  High,  thy  habitation,  there  shall 
no  evil  befal  thee,  neither  shall  any  plague  come  nigh 
thy  dwelling.  For  he  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over 
thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways." 

2.  But  our  houses  are  something  more  than  places 
of  shelter  from  the  attacks  of  enemies,  from  winds  and 
from  storms.  They  are  the  abodes  of  our  happiness, 
and  the  mansions  in  which  we  seek  our  peace  and  our 
rest.  When  therefore  the  eternal  God  styles  himself 
our  dwelling-place,  he  teaches  us  to  regard  him  as  the 
seat  of  our  comforts.  And  there  are  thousands  among 
his  tried  and  afflicted  people,  who  can  testify  with  hearts 
glowing  with  gratitude,  that  there  are  indeed  comforts 
in  him  ;  such  comforts  as  they  who  know  not  God  have 
never  tasted  nor  thought  of;  substantial  and  satisfying 
comforts ;  comforts  which  can  sweeten  a  world  of  mi- 
sery, and  make  the  dreary  desert  around  us  blossom  as 
a  rose.  How  is  it  then,  my  brethren,  that  the  blessings 
of  our  heavenly  home  are  so  little  experienced  and  en- 
joyed ?  We  know  that  there  is  happiness  with  God, 
and  there  have  been  seasons,  in  which  we  have  won- 
dtred  at  the  blessedness  he  has  imparted  to  our  souls. 
The  difficulties  of  life  have  lost  all  their  power  to  per- 
plex, and  its  calamities  to  trouble  us.  Though  chas- 
tened and  afflicted,  we  have  risen  above  our  trials,  and 
have  been  ready  to  bid  an  eternal  farewell  to  fear  and 
sorrow.  And  yet  perhaps  in  one  short  hour  this  calm 
has  been  disturbed.  Peace  has  forsaken  us,  and  our 
harassed  minds  have  again  resembled  the  troubled  sea 
when  it  cannot  rest.  We  have  been  disappointed,  and 
the  disappointment  has  been  more  than  we  could  bear ; 
we  have  received  some  unexpected  stroke  of  our  Fa- 
ther's rod,  and  Ave  have  fainted  under  it :  we  have  lost 


ofhis  Servants,  805 

-  the  idol  we  had  loved,  and  we  huve  felt  as  forlorn  and 
comfortless,  as  though  there  were  no  God  to  be  our 
helper,  or  we  had  never  leaned  on  his  arm.  And  to 
what  cause  are  we  to  ascribe  this  painful  change  in  our 
feelings  ?  We  have  forgotten  our  God.  We  have  for- 
saken the  seat  of  our  comforts.  We  have  been  seeking 
abroad  the  blessings,  whicli  are  to  be  found  only  in  our 
home.  Could  \ye  but  constantly  live  above  in  the 
dwelling  appointed  us  ;  could  we  but  abide  hour  by 
hour  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Almighty,  how  little 
should  we  heed  the  storms  that  are  now  so  often  dis- 
quieting  us !  The  waves  of  this  troubled  sea,  over 
which  we  are  passing,  might  toss  themselves,  and  the 
waters  thereof  roar  and  lift  themselves  up ;  but  we 
should  be  dwelling  far  above  their  reach,  and  should 
dread  not  their  fury.  The  man,  who  is  surrounded  in  a 
peaceful  habitation  by  the  comforts  ofhis  home,  heeds 
not  the  tempests,  which  rage  around  him.  He  hears  the 
winds  blow,  and  the  rains  descend,  but  they  disturb  not 
his  blessedness.  Neither  can  the  storms  of  life  mate- 
rially disturb  the  peace  of  the  Christian.  He  feels  him- 
self to  be  sheltered  in  a  secure  dwelling,  and  in  a  quiet 
resting  place,  and  the  agitating  scenes  of  life  only  make 
him  value  it  the  more,  and  sweeten  its  comforts.  He 
may  be  afflicted  and  troubled ;  he  may  be  bowed  down 
with  sickness,  and  have  not  a  lover  or  friend  to  pity  or 
help  him  ;  the  world  may  persecute  and  harass  him ; 
intricate  and  mysterious  providences  may  throw  many 
a  cloud  over  his  path;  but  none  of  these  things  move 
him.  The  man  is  in  the  bosom  of  his  God,  and  he  is 
happy  there. 

3.  The  figurative  language  of  the  text  implies,  thirdly, 
that  the  eternal  God  is  not  only  a  refuge  to  his  people 
from  their  dangers  and  the  seat  of  their  comforts,  but 

Qq 


306         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Place 

that  he  is  also  the  place  of  their  abode  ;  not  merely  a 
house  in  which  they  are  occasionally  found,  but  their 
constant  residence,  their  home.  It  is  this  living  in  God? 
this  habit  of  flying  to  him  for  protection  and  peace, 
which  distinguishes  the  real  Christian  from  the  mere 
professor  of  religion,  and  makes  his  soul  so  unruffled 
and  fearless.  There  are  seasons,  in  which  we  are  all 
disposed  to  seek  refuge  in  God.  The  calamities  of  life 
force  us  to  implore  his  aid.  But  then,  brethren,  let  us 
not  deem  ourselves  Christians,  because  sickness  can 
alarm,  and  adversity  trouble  us.  Let  us  not  say  that 
we  are  dwelling  in  a  house,  into  which  we  have  been 
unwillingly  forced  by  a  storm,  and  which  we  intend  to 
leave,  as  soon  as  the  fury  of  the  tempest  has  passed.  It 
is  true  that  God  is  a  refuge  from  the  storm,  and  a 
hiding-place  from  the  wind ;  a  near  and  open  refuge, 
to  which  every  helpless  and  wearied  pilgrim  is  invited 
to  fly,  and  where  he  is  promised  a  welcome  and  a  bless- 
ing; but  to  the  Christian  he  is  something  more.  The 
Most  High  is  *'  his  habitation,  whereunto  he  continually 
resorts."  "  He  dwelleth  in  God"  in  the  hour  of  secu- 
rity, as  well  as  in  the  season  of  danger ;  and  in  the 
brightest  day  of  his  prosperity  he  still  "  abideth  under 
the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.*'  Without  this  habitual 
communion  with  God  and  constant  dependence  upon 
him,  the  Scriptures  plainly  tell  us  that  we  shall  be 
strangers  to  the  safety  and  peace,  which  he  vouchsafes 
to  his  children.  And  does  not  matter  of  fact  tell  us  the 
same  ?  Who  are  the  people  among  us,  whom  the  world 
cannot  move,  nor  temptation  overcome  ?  whom  disap- 
pointments cannot  ruffle,  nor  afflictions  depress  ?  The 
careless  and  inconsistent  followers  of  Christ  ?  the  men 
who  give  to  prayer  and  the  Bible  one  hour,  and  to  va- 
nity and  sin  the  next  ?  No ;  the  man,  who  is  in  thenar 


of  his  Servants.  307 

of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long ;  who  is  living,  as  it  were, 
every  hour  at  his  footstool,  and  within  sight  of  his 
throne  ?  How  then,  brethren,  are  we  living  ?  with  God 
or  without  him  in  the  world  ?  Is  he  our  dwelling-place, 
our  home  ?  or  is  he  as  a  strange  and  foreign  house  to 
us,  the  door  of  which  we  may  have  seen,  but  never  en- 
tered  ;  and  the  comforts  of  which  we  may  have  heard 
of,  but  never  tasted  nor  sought  ? 

III.  This  then  is  the  light,  in  which  we  are  encou- 
raged to  regard  the  everlasting  God.  If  we  are  num- 
bered among  the  people  who  are  seeking  and  serving 
him,  he  is  our  refuge  in  danger,  the  seat  of  our  com- 
forts, and  the  abode  of  our  rest.  It  becomes  us  there- 
fore to  enquire,  thirdly,  what  feelings  the  contempla- 
tion of  our  eternal  dwelling-place,  ought  to  excite  in 
our  minds. 

1.  The  text  may  be  considered,  first,  as  the  language 
of  grateful  acknowledgment.  The  psalmist  seems  to 
have  been  taking  a  review  of  the  never-failing  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Almighty  towards  his  beloved  church, 
and  he  here  acknowledges  his  hand  in  all  the  multi- 
plied mercies,  which  he  and  his  fellow  pilgrims  had 
experienced.  We  too,  my  brethren,  should  imitate  his 
conduct.  Mercies  are  not  given  us  merely  to  be  re- 
ceived and  forgotten.  They  are  designed  to  be  lasting 
blessings,  to  be  treasured  up  in  our  memories,  and  to 
be  made  the  means  of  warming  our  hearts,  and  renew- 
ing our  confidence  in  every  future  season  of  despon- 
dency and  coldness.  The  history  of  our  own  lives  then 
is  a  history,  which  we  are  bound  to  study.  God  him- 
self has  commanded  us  to  remember  all  the  way  where- 
in he  has  led  us,  to  keep  all  the  events  which  have  be- 
fallen us  fresh  in  our  recollection,  and  to  connect  them 
all  with  him.    Some  painful  emotions  must,  it  is  true, 


308         God  the  Eternal  Dwcllhig-Place 

arise  in  every  mind,  as  it  retraces  the  past.  Hours 
wasted  in  folly,  and  days  in  vanity :  talents  unimprov- 
ed, and  duties  left  undone ;  afflictions  despised,  and 
warnings  slighted  ;  sins  heaped  upon  sins  must  rush 
upon  the  mind  as  it  looks  back  on  the  years  that  are 
gone,  and  excite  many  a  sorrowful  and  almost  sicken- 
ing feeling  in  the  heart.  But  these  are  not  the  only 
things,  which  a  retrospect  of  life  recals  to  our  remem- 
brance. It  forces  us  to  see  that  the  eternal  God  has  in- 
deed been  our  dwelling-place;  that  in  the  midst  of  our 
iniquities  goodness  and  mercy  have  been  hourly  pre- 
venting and  following  us  ;  that  blessings  exceeding  in 
multitude  the  hairs  of  our  head,  yea,  numberless  as  our 
sins,  have  been  poured  into  our  bosoms.  Indeed  it 
seems  to  us  at  seasons  as  though  we  had  been  from  the 
day  of  our  birth  the  only  objects  of  Jehovah's  care  and 
regard;  as  though  he  had  forgotten  all  the  concerns  of 
the  universe  to  help,  support,  and  comfort  our  sinful 
souls. 

2.  The  words  of  the  psalmist  may  be  regarded  also 
as  the  language  of  satisfaction.  They  imply  that,  in  all 
generations,  the  people  who  have  dwelt  in  God  have 
been  abundantly  satisfied  with  the  goodness  of  their 
house  ;  that  thev  have  found  in  it  all  that  their  wants 
needed,  and  more  than  their  souls  desired.  Some  of  us 
perhaps  have  been  tempted  to  pity  the  Christian,  and 
to  regret  that  he  should  deny  himself  the  comforts  and 
joys,  which  we  find  in  those  pursuits  and  delights  of 
the  world,  that  he  has  abandoned.  \\^e  are  ready  to 
think  that  he  has  been  disappointed  in  his  expectations, 
and  that  were  it  not  for  the  workings  of  obstinacy  and 
pride,  he  would  again  rejoice  to  share  our  society  and 
to  enter  into  our  pleasures.  But  could  we  once  see  the 
intense  earnestness,  with  which  the  most   sorrowful 


of  his  Servants.  309 

Christian  desires  to  cling  to  his  God,  and  the  rich  and 
full  satisfaction,  which  he  finds  and  enjoys  in  him,  we 
should  learn  a  lesson,  that  would  astonish  and  humble 
us.  That  man  disappointed,  who  has  the  eternal  God 
for  his  dwelling  place  ?  That  heart  unsatisfied,  which 
is  lying  on  the  bosom  of  Jehovah  ?  Never.  You,  bre- 
thren, who  are  thirsting  for  pleasure,  and  seeking  it 
with  all  the  energies  of  your  souls  in  a  deceiving  and 
changing  world,  you  are  the  men  whose  hearts  ache 
with  vexation  and  sicken  with  disappointment ;  you  are 
the  men,  to  whom  solitude  is  irksome,  existence  itself 
often  a'  burden,  death  dreadful,  and  eternity  apalling. 

3.  We  may  consider  the  text,  thirdly,  as  the  lan- 
guage oi  humility.  The  contemplation  of  the  divine 
eternity  humbles,  as  well  as  elevates,  the  mind.  It  in- 
voluntarily leads  us  to  compare  ourselves  with  him, 
who  is  reigning  on  his  everlasting  throne,  and  almost 
overwhelms  us  with  a  sense  of  our  own  littleness  and 
vileness.  No  sooner  has  the  psalmist  spoken  of  God  as 
the  eternal  dwelling-place  of  his  people,  than  we  find 
his  thoughts  passing  abruptly  to  the  frailty  of  man,  and 
afterwards  to  his  sinfulness.  He  speaks  of  him  as  fading 
away  suddenly  like  the  grass  ;  as  traversing  the  earth  in 
the  morning,  and  in  the  evening  returning  again  to  the 
dust,  from  which  he  was  taken.  How  mysterious  then 
is  the  condescension  of  the  Lord  in  setting  his  love  on 
a  creature  so  mean !  And  how  fearfully  bold  is  the 
pride  of  that  creature,  when  he  presumes  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  the  actions,  and  to  censure  the  counsels  of  an 
eternal  God  !  And  yet  how  prone  is  man  to  cherish  this 
foolish  and  presumptuous  pride  !  Though  born  yester- 
day, and  dying  to-morrow,  so  ignorant  that  he  cannot 
comprehend  the  nature  of  his  own  existence,  and  so 
short-sighted  that  he  cannot  tell  what  a  single  hour  will 


310         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Place 

bring  forth;  yet  is  he  continually  lifting  up  himself 
against  the  incomprehensible  God,  and  daring  to  bring 
the  Lord  of  eternity  to  the  bar  of  his  own  poor  little 
mind.  We  glory  in  the  intellect  of  man,  when  it  is  ex- 
ercised in  submission  to  the  word  and  ways  of  him  who 
is  its  author,  but  we  tremble  and  blush  for  it,  when  it 
is  striving  to  exalt  itself  against  the  Majesty  of  heaven. 
The  eternity  of  God  sets  him  far  above  the  reach  of  our 
feeble  comprehension  ;  and  he  who  would  act  agreeably 
to  the  rational  nature,  of  which  he  is  so  willing  to  boast, 
must  struggle  with  the  workings  of  his  own  proud 
heart,  must  labour  to  cast  down  its  high  imaginations, 
and  never  rest  till  every  thought  within  him  is  brought 
into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of  Christ. 

But  the  words  of  the  psalmist  remind  us  of  another 
ground  of  humiliation.  We  are  sinful  as  well  as  frail 
beings ;  and  the  same  eternal  God,  who  has  taught  us 
to  regard  him  as  our  refuge,  has  "  set  our  iniquities  be- 
fore him,  and  our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance." Many  of  these  sins  yve  have  seldom  or  never 
thought  of,  and  many  more  we  have  long  since  for- 
gotten ;  but  not  one  of  them  is  forgotten  in  heaven. 
They  are  all  as  fresh  at  this  very  moment  in  the  mind 
of  the  Lord,  as  in  the  hour  when  they  were  committed. 
Though  infinite  mercy  may  pardon,  infinite  wisdom 
can  never  forget  them.  A  thousand  years  in  his  sight 
are  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is  past,  and  ten  thousand 
more  could  not  efface  from  the  book  of  his  remem- 
brance a  single  sin.  How  solemn  is  this  thought,  bre- 
thren !  Who  can  press  it  home  to  his  heart,  and  dare 
to  make  light  of  his  past  transgressions  ?  They  may  be 
pardoned,  fully  and  eternally  pardoned,  so  completely 
remitted  that  they  may  be  said  to  be  cast  into  the  depths 
of  the  sea ;  but  where  is  the  Christian,  who  is  not  con- 


of  his  Servants.  311 

strained  to  mourn  over  them,  as  he  thinks  of  the  eter- 
nity of  God,  and  to  humble  himself  in  the  dust  at  the 
footstool  of  his  throne  ? 

4.  The  language  before  us  may  be  regarded,  fourthly, 
as  the  language  of  trust  and  confidence.  If  God  has 
been  the  dwelling-place  of  his  people  in  all  the  genera- 
lions  that  are  past,  we  are  warranted  to  conclude  that 
he  will  continue  to  shelter  and  bless  them  in  all  the 
generations  that  are  to  come,  even  to  everlasting.  His 
eternity  assures  us  of  his  unchangeableness.  It  tells  us 
that  such  as  he  was  millions  of  ages  before  the  moun- 
tains were  brought  forth,  such  is  he  now,  and  such  he 
will  be  millions  of  ages  after  the  world  has  been  de- 
stroyed ;  the  same  all  powerful  and  mysteriously  gra- 
cious God.  We  sometimes  however,  find  ourselves 
tempted  to  doubt  his  unchangeableness.  As  we  think 
of  the  mighty  works  vt^hich  his  hands  have  formed,  and 
of  the  rich  streams  of  mercy  which  have  flowed  through 
so  many  generations  from  his  throne,  we  are  ready  to 
imagine  that  the  treasures  of  his  power  and  love  must 
be  diminished ;  but  no.  His  arm  is  as  strong  now,  as 
when  he  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  as  for 
his  love  to  his  people,  it  is  as  great  as  when  he  gave 
his  only  begotten  Son,  and  sent  him  to  the  manger  and 
the  cross  to  redeem  their  souls. 

It  is  a  heart-felt  conviction  of  this  truth,  which  makes 
the  Christian  prize  so  highly  the  refuge,  to  which  he 
has  fled  ;  and  renders  his  confidence  in  it  so  strong  and 
unshaken.  Stability  stamps  a  value  upon  a  habitation. 
We  may  be  satisfied  v»'ith  the  accommodations  of  a 
house  and  admire  its  beauty,  but  if  we  are  told  that  its 
foundations  are  giving  way,  we  never  think  of  taking 
it  for  our  dwelling.  Thus  the  Christian  dares  not  rest 
his  hope$  of  safety  or  happiness  on  worldly  objects^ 


3  IS         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Place 

however  dear  they  may  bcto  him,  because  he  knows 
that  they  are  hastening  to  destruction.  He  is  an  im- 
mortal being,  and  the  rock  on  which  he  sets  his  foot, 
must  be  an  everlasting  rock  ;  and  the  arm  on  which  he 
leans,  an  everlasting  arm.  The  eternal  God  therefore 
is  the  ground  of  his  confidence,  and  he  is  so  because 
he  is  an  eternal  God ;  because  he  knows  that  '^  his 
throne  endureth  for  ever  in  heaven,  and  of  his  years 
there  shall  be  no  end." 

If  this  attribute  of  the  Almighty  were  more  frequently 
made  the  subject  of  our  meditations,  brethren,  if  wc 
thought  more  closely  and  habitually  on  the  eternity  of 
God,  we  should,  find  our  reliance  on  him  less  liable  to 
be  shaken,  and  the  joy  we  derive  from  his  gospel 
ftweetened  and  increased.  The  troubles  of  life  would 
lose  much  of  their  power  to  perplex  and  distress  us. 
We  should  remember  that  before  the  foundations  of 
the  world  were  laid,  our  wants  were  all  foreseen  by  him 
whose  goings  forth  were  from  everlasting,  and  all  pro- 
vided for  in  his  covenant  of  peace ;  that  the  very  afflic- 
tions, which  are  now  filling  our  hearts  with  fear  and 
amguish,  are  parts  of  a  stupendous  plan,  formed  in  the 
councils  of  eternity  to  throw  a  new  lustre  around  the 
throne  of  Jehovah  by  purifying  a  peculiar  people  unto 
himself  from  among  our  fallen  race,  and  placing  them 
in  his  heavenly  temple  as  monuments  of  his  incompre- 
hensible mercy.  He  himself  assures  us  that  the  love, 
wherewith  he  has  loved  us,  had  its  origen  in  eternity. 
"  Yea,"  says  he,  "  1  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlast- 
ing love ;  therefore  with  loving-kindness  have  I  drawn 
thee."  And  when  is  this  love  to  end  ?  Not  till  eternity 
itself  is  past.  "  The  mercy  of  the  Lord,"  says  David, 
"is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  upon  them  that 
fear  him."    And  what  is  the  language  of  God  him- 


of  his  Servants.  '3 13 

self  to  his  fainting  people  ?  "  For  a  small  moment 
have  1  forsaken  thee,  but  with  great  mercies  will  I  ga- 
ther thee.  In  a  little  wrath  1  hid  my  face  from  thee  for 
a  moment,  but  with  everlasting  kindness  will  I  have 
mercy  on  thee,  saith  the  Lord  thy  Redeemer.  For  the 
mountains  shall  depart,  and  the  hills  be  removed  ;  but 
my  kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee,  neither  shall 
the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  removed,  saith  the  Lord 
that  hath  mercy  on  thee."  Are  we  then  sincerely  and 
heartily  seeking  this  mercy  ?  Let  us  rejoice  in  it  as  a 
mercy  that  endureth  for  ever,  the  riches  of  which  a 
whole  universe  of  pardoned  sinners  could  never  ex- 
haust. There  is  no  fear  of  rejoicing  in  it  too  much, 
nor  of  relying  on  it  too  confidently.  The  love  of  an 
eternal  God  can  never  fail  nor  disappoint  us.  We  have 
had  other  friends  indeed,  who  have  loved  us,  and  sweet 
has  their  friendship  been  to  our  souls,  but  where  are 
they  now  ?  Where  is  the  father  who  begat,  and  the 
mother  who  bare  us  ?  Where  are  the  companions  of 
our  childhood,  and  the  associates  of  our  youth  ?  Where 
are  they,  who  once  ate  of  our  bread  and  drank  of  our 
cup  ?  They  are  dead.  The  greater  part  of  them  are 
gone  far  from  us,  and  have  left  us  to  weather  the  storms 
of  life  alone.  But  God  is  not  gone.  Death  cannot  dash 
him  into  the  grave,  nor  separate  us  from  his  love.  Our 
dwelling-place  is  still  standing  firm  on  its  everlasting 
foundations,  and  though  lover  and  friend  be  put  far  from 
us  and  our  acquaintance  into  darkness,  we  will  confide 
in  its  strength,  and  fill  our  hearts  with  its  blessedness. 
^'  The  Lord  shall  comfort  Zion  ;  he  will  comfort  all  her 
waste  places,  and  he  will  make  her  wilderness  like 
Eden,  and  her  desert  like  the  garden  of  the  Lord  ;  joy 
and  gladness  shall  be  found  therein,  thanksgiving  and 
the  voice  of  melody.  Hearken  unto  me,  my  people,  and 

Rr 


314         God  the  Eternal  Dwelling-Flace 

give  car  unto  me,  O  my  nation.  Lift  up  your  eyes  to 
the  heavens,  and  look  upon  the  earth  beneath ;  for  the 
heavens  shall  vanish  away  like  smoke,  and  the  earth 
shall  wax  old  like  a  garment,  and  they  that  dwell  therein 
shall  die  in  like  manner ;  but  my  salvation  shall  be  for 
ever,  and  my  righteousness  shall  not  be  abolished." 

5.  There  is  yet  another  lesson  suggested  to  us  by 
the  words  of  the  text.  While  they  are  calculated  to 
excite  in  the  hearts  of  the  righteous  the  liveliest  feelings 
of  gratitude,  satisfaction,  humility,  and  confidence,  they 
speak  to  the  careless  and  ungodly  the  language  of  alarm 
and  terror.  The  eternity  of  God  makes  his  favour  in- 
finitely desirable,  but  then  it  adds  a  fearfulness  to  his 
displeasure,  which  thrills  and  appals  the  soul.  Other 
enemies  may  be  incensed  against  us,  but  while  they  are 
preparing  to  execute  their  purposes  of  wrath,  their 
breath  goeth  forth  ;  they  die,  and  there  is  an  end  of  their 
terror.  But  an  avenging  God  never  dies.  The  weapons 
of  his  indignation  are  as  lasting  as  they  are  strong.  The 
sentence  he  pronounces  on  his  adversaries  is  an  "  eter- 
nal judgment ;"  the  punishment  prepared  for  them  is 
**  everlasting  destruction ;"  and  the  smoke  of  that  pit, 
wherein  they  are  cast,  ascendeth  up  for  ever  and  ever. 
The  worm  which  torments  them,  is  a  worm  that  dieth 
not ;  and  the  fire  which  burns  within  them,  is  a  fire  that 
can  never  be  quenched.  O  brethren,  it  is  a  fearful  thing 
to  fiUl  into  the  hands  of  a  living,  an  ever  living,  an 
eternal  God  !  And  yet  how  rapidly  are  many  of  us  ap- 
proaching this  fearful  fall !  While  we  are  suffering  our 
minds  to  be  occupied  solely  by  the  business  of  the  world, 
or  enslaved  by  its  vanities,  while  our  hearts  are  unsanc- 
tified  and  our  sins  unpardoned,  while  mercy  Ls  despised 
and  grace  forgotten,  year  after  year  is  passing  silently 
away,  and  death,  judgment,  and  eternity  all  drawing  near. 


of  his  Sei^ants.  315 

A  few  more  of  these  silent  years  will  soon  have  run 
their  course,  and  we  shall  have  reached  our  everlasting 
home ;  yea,  some  of  us  may  even  now  be  standing  on 
the  verge  of  an  unseen  and  unthought  of  eternity,  and 
before  another  sabbath  dawns,  may  be  hurried  into  its 
mysterious  and  awful  scenes.  To  trifle  in  such  a  situa- 
tion is  madness.  To  rest  satisfied  with  forming  resolu- 
tions of  seeking  at  some  favourable  season  a  refuge  in 
Christ,  is  no  better  than  pitiable  folly.  There  is  only 
one  line  of  conduct,  which  a  rational  being  under  such 
circumstances  can  pursue.  It  is  marked  out  for  him  bv 
the  God  who  is  willing  to  receive,  and  longing  to  bless 
him.  '*  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrigh- 
teous man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord."  "  Turn  ye  to  the  strong  hold,  ye  prisoners  of 
hope."  *'  Flee  from  the  wrath  to  come." 


SERMON  XX. 


THE  FORBEARANCE  OF  BAYID  TOWARDS 
SHIMEL 


2  SAMUEL  XVi.   13. 

.-fwrf  as  David  and  his  men  went  by  the  ivay,  Shimei  went  along  on 
the  hiWs  side  over  against  him,  and  cursed  as  he  nvent,  and  threw 
stones  at  him,  and  cast  dust. 

1.  HE  justice  of  God  never  perhaps  appears  so  awful, 
as  when  he  is  visiting  with  judgments  his  beloved  peo- 
ple. He  makes  his  power  to  be  known  and  his  name  to 
be  feared,  when  he  curses  a  Cain,  or  overthrows  a  Pha- 
raoh ;  but  when  we  see  him  laying  his  hand  on  a  Da- 
vid, and  following  year  after  year  with  his  severest  chas- 
tisements the  man  after  his  own  heart,  because  he  has 
sinned  against  him,  who  does  not  stand  in  awe  of  his 
holiness  and  tremble  at  the  terrors  of  his  justice  ?  But 
even  in  his  wrath,  the  Lord  thinketh  upon  mercy. 
Though  he  visits  the  transgression  of  his  children  with 
the  rod,  and  their  iniquity  with  stripes,  yet  in  the  midst 
of  their  chastisements  he  manifests  the  greatness  of  his 
love  towards  them,  and  his  jealousy  for  their  honour  as 
well  as  for  his  own.  He  makes  their  sufferings  the 
means  of  calling  their  graces  into  exercise,  and  removes 
from  them  much  of  the  shame  of  their  guilt  by  tlie  pa- 
tience, with  which  he  enables  them  to  bear  their  punish- 
ment. Thus  did  he  deal  with  his  servant  David.  He 
smote  him  fearfully  and  pierced  him  through  with  the 
sharpest  sorrows,  but  he  strengthened  him  in  his  afHic- 


The  Forbear ance  of  David,  &c,        S17 

tions  ;  and  the  troubled  saint  not  only  brought  glory  to 
his  God  by  his  self-abasement  and  submission,  but 
covered  himself  with  an  honour,  which  has  made  him 
the  admiration  of  succeeding  ages.  Who  can  read  the 
part  of  his  history  now  before  us  without  reverencing 
the  man,  and  almost  longing  to  share  his  injuries,  so 
that  he  might  be  made  partaker  of  his  meekness  ? 

In  contemplating  the  bright  example  he  has  here  left 
us,  we  may  consider,  Jirst,  the  provocation  he  received ; 
and,  secondly^  the  forbearance  he  manifested. 

I.  1.  The  provocation,  which  David  received  on  this 
occasion,  was  one  of  the  most  irritating,  by  which  the 
patience  of  man  was  ever  tried.  It  was  offered  to  a 
person  of  the  most  exalted  rank,  by  one  who  was  much 
his  inferior,  and  it  was  continued  without  intermission 
till  he  was  beyond  the  reach  of  his  malice.  And  what 
must  have  given  peculiar  keenness  to  this  insult  was 
the  extraordinary  respect,  with  which  the  monarchs  of 
the  east  were  accustomed  to  be  treated.  They  were 
almost  worshipped  as  gods  by  their  subjects,  and  yet 
we  here  find  one  of  the  best  and  greatest  amongst  them 
reviled  and  cursed  to  his  face.  *'  When  king  David 
came  to  Bahurim,"  says  the  sacred  historian,  "  behold, 
thence  came  out  a  man  of  the  family  of  the  house  of 
Saul,  whose  name  was  Shimei,  the  son  of  Gera;  he  came 
forth  and  cursed  still  as  he  came.  And  thus  said  Shi- 
mei when  he  cursed,  '  Come  out,  come  out,  thou 
bloody  man,  and  thou  man  of  Belial.  The  Lord  hath 
returned  upon  thee  all  the  blood  of  the  house  of  Saul, 
in  whose  stead  thou  hast  reigned,  and  the  Lord  hath 
delivered  the  kingdom  into  the  hand  of  Absalom,  thy 
son  ;  and  behold  thou  art  taken  in  thy  mischief,  because 
thou  art  a  bloody  man.'  And  as  David  and  his  men 
'.Tent  by  the  way,  Shimei  went  along  on  the  hill's  side 


318  The  Forbearance  of  David 

over  against  him,  and  cursed  as  he  went,  and  threw 
stones  at  him,  and  cast  dust." 

The  reason,  why  God  was  pleased  to  allow  this  in- 
sult to  be  added  to  the  other  trials  of  David,  is  obvi- 
ous. He  wished  to  teach  him  how  low  his  iniquities 
had  sunk  him,  and  to  shew  him  that  the  cup  of  the  di- 
vine indignation  was  not  even  yet  exhausted.  The 
lesson  it  is  calculated  to  teach  us  is  equally  plain.  It 
tells  us  that  the  servant  of  God  must  expect  to  meet  with 
visults  and  provocations  from  his  fellow  sinners.  We 
are  not  dwelling  among  angels,  but  among  men.  We 
are  living  in  a  fallen  world,  in  a  world  that  has  re- 
nounced the  authority  of  the  God  of  peace,  and  thrown 
itself  under  the  dominion  of  the  prince  of  discord.  It 
would  be  madness  then  to  think  of  passing  through  it, 
as  though  it  were  a  world  of  concord  and  love.  The 
wonder  is,  not  that  there  is  so  much  selfishness,  and 
malice,  and  wrong  amongst  us,  but  that  there  so  little ; 
not  that  so  many  thorns  and  briers  are  springing  up 
on  this  accursed  ground,  but  that  we  are  so  seldom 
harassed  and  torn  by  them.  Instead  therefore  of  look- 
ing with  surprise  and  almost  murmuring  on  the  con- 
fusion, which  hatred  and  revenge  are  exciting  around 
him,  let  the  Christian  remember  on  what  a  world  he 
is  standing,  and  be  thankful  tliat  his  own  hand  is  not 
lifted  up  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand 
against  him  ;  let  him  adore  that  grace,  which  restrains 
the  raging  passions  of  his  fallen  brethren,  and  leads  so 
many  amongst  them  to  mitigate  by  their  meekness  and 
active  benevolence  the  evils  of  our  state.  While  Shimei 
was  cursing,  David  was  surrounded  by  friends,  who 
were  minghng  their  tears  with  his,  and  who  would 
gladly  have  shed  their  blood  for  his  sake ;  and  where 
is  the  reviled  and  afflicted  servant  of  God,  who  has  not 


towards  Shimei.  310 

some  eye  to  weep  for  him,  some  tongue  to  bless,  and 
some  heart  to  love  him  ? 

But  let  us  not  expect  too  much  from  the  friendship 
of  mankind.  We  have  made  our  hearts  the  seats  of 
malignant  dispositions,  and  though  God  in  his  mercy 
controuls  their  violence,  yet  he  is  determined  that  we 
shall  know  something  of  their  evil  and  taste  their  bit- 
terness. Hence  he  exposes  every  man,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  to  enmity  and  injustice  ;  and  as  for  his  own 
people,  he  generally  measures  out  to  them  a  double 
portion  of  the  world's  hatred  and  scorn.  He  acts  thus 
that  he  may  conform  them  to  their  despised  and  re- 
jected master ;  that  he  may  manifest  to  angels  and  to 
men  the  ardour  of  their  love  to  him,  and  the  power  of 
his  grace  ;  that  he  may  remind  them  of  their  sins,  wean 
them  from  the  earth,  and  sweeten  to  them  that  world 
of  harmony  and  rest,  for  whicli  he  is  preparing  them. 

2.  The  conduct  of  Shimei  was  criieiy  as  well  as  irri- 
tating. The  condition  of  David  at  this  period  appeared 
calculated  to  disarm  by  its  misery  the  most  inveterate 
of  his  enemies.  The  hand  of  the  Lord  was  heavy  upon 
him,  and  had  raised  up  evil  against  him  out  of  his  own 
house.  One  of  his  sons,  after  a  crime  which  must  have 
made  the  heart  of  his  father  sink  within  him,  had  been 
slain  by  his  brother's  hand,  and  now  another  of  his 
family,  his  beloved  Absalom,  was  heading  a  rebellion 
against  him,  and  had  already  driven  him  from  his  throne. 
Attended  by  a  few  faithful  followers,  he  leaves  Jerusa- 
lem, and  passes  on  weeping  and  barefoot  to  seek  a  re- 
fuge from  the  violence  of  his  own  subjects  in  the  wil- 
derness of  Judea.  Wherever  he  came,  his  humiliation 
and  sorrows  excited  the  compassion  of  all  who  beheld 
him ;  for  who  does  not  feel  for  a  father,  oppressed  by 
the  cruelty   of  his  children  and  mourning  over  their 


320  The  Forbearance  of  David 

vices?  But  his  afflicted  condition  moved  not  Shitnei, 
David  had  offended  him.  He  tliought  that  now  in  his 
adversity  he  might  gratify  his  resentment  with  impu- 
nity ;  and  while  others  are  following  hirn  with  tears 
and  blessings,  he  pursues  him  with  reproaches  and 
curses. 

The  Christian  therefore  must  not  expect  that  the 
troubles  of  life  will  skreen  him  from  persecution.  This 
history  teaches  him  that  thet/  will  expose  him  in  a  pe- 
culiar  degree  to  the  revilings  of  the  ungodly.  We  are 
ready  to  suppose  in  the  hour  of  affliction  that  every 
heart  must  feel  for  us,  and  that  the  malice  of  our  bit- 
terest enemies  must  now  for  a  season  be  changed  into 
pity.  But  experience  proves  that  the  most  afflicted  are 
generally  the  most  persecuted.  Their  calamities  leave 
their  adversaries  nothing  to  hope  for  from  their  favour, 
and  little  perhaps  to  dread  from  their  displeasure.  The 
consequence  is,  that  they  indulge  without  restraint  the 
enmity,  which  before  they  suppressed.  Men  are  also 
prone,  as  Shimei  was,  to  ascribe  the  afflictions  of  the 
righteous  to  the  divine  indignation  against  them,  and 
think  that  they  are  furthering  the  work  of  God  and 
doing  him  service,  by  covering  them  with  shame.  Thus 
David  found  it  in  the  present  instance,  and  in  the  time 
of  his  old  age,  when  his  strength  failed  him,  he  found 
it  the  same.  His  enemies  spake  against  him,  and  they 
that  laid  wait  for  his  soul  took  counsel  together,  say- 
ing, *'  God  hath  forsaken  him  ;  persecute  and  take 
him,  for  there  is  none  to  deliver  him."  The  Saviour 
himself  experienced  the  same  treatment.  In  the  hour 
of  his  agony,  he  seemed  to  cry  from  the  cross  in  the 
words  of  his  prophet,  '*  Is  it  nothing  to  you,  all  ye  that 
pass  by  ?  Behold,  and  see  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like 
unto  my  sorrow,  which  is  done  unto  me,  wherewith 


towards  Shimei.  321 

the  Lord  hath  afflicted  me  in  the  day  of  ms  fierce  fin- 
ger." And  what  was  the  pity  he  obtained  ?  ^^  They 
mocked  and  derided  him.  They  gave  liim  gall  for  his 
meat  ;  and  in  his  thirst,  they  gave  him  vinegar  to 
drink." 

And  is  ?20t  7naUce  ahvays  cruel?  We  may  not  be 
bowed  down  by  tliose  heavy  calamities,  under  which 
the  insulted  David  was  suffering,  but  where  is  the  man, 
whose  condition  does  not  give  him  a  claim  on  the  for- 
bearance of  his  brethren  ?  Innumerable  evils  are  com- 
passing us  about.  Pain  and  sickness,  disappointments 
and  trials,  losses  and  troubles,  are  day  by  day  the  por- 
tion of  our  cup  ;  and  when  we  have  struggled  through  a 
few  more  years  of  care  and  sorrow,  we  shall  lie  down 
in  the  darkness  of  the  grave.  Shall  we  then  in  such  a 
situation  as  this,  delight  in  harassing  each  other  ?  Shall 
the  mariners,  whom  a  raging  tempest  is  tossing,  and 
whose  vessel  is  about  to  be  dashed  to  destruction,  spend 
the  few  fearful  moments  of  life  that  are  left  them  in 
mutual  animosities  and  insults  ?  Is  man  so  happy  and 
is  his  life  so  extended,  that  he  needs  our  persecutions 
to  remind  him  that  he  is  fallen  and  guilty  ?  Alas,  no  ! 
So  wretched  is  his  condition,  that  the  very  God,  who 
is  afflicting  him,  pities  him  in  his  sufferings,  and  calls 
upon  his  brethren  to  pity  him  also  ;  to  be  tender- 
hearted towards  him,  and,  for  his  sake,  to  share  his 
burdens  and  weep  with  him  in  his  sorrows.  Let  our 
common  miseries  then  put  an  end  to  our  contentions. 
Let  us  regard  each  other  as  suffering  and  dying,  and 
be  anxious  to  lessen,  instead  of  aggravating,  the  ilis 
which  assail  us.  Let  us  not  wound  the  criminal,  who 
is  groaning  on  the  rack  ;  nor  bruise  to-day  the  worm, 
that  will  be  crushed  to-morrow. 

3.  The  provocation,  which  David  received,  was  also 
Ss 


332  The  Furbeurance  of  David 

undeserved.  There  was  indeed  blood,  which  cried  from 
the  ground  for  vengeance  on  his  head  ;  but  he  had  never 
injured  Shimei ;  and  as  for  his  having  been  guilty  of 
the  death  of  Saul  and  his  family,  no  charge  could  be 
more  unjust.  He  had  repeatedly  spared  their  lives  when 
they  were  in  his  power ;  and  ^vhen  they  were  slain  b}^ 
the  Philistines,  he  lamented  them  as  though  they  had 
been  his  own  brethren.  But  the  ungodly  are  always 
selfish,  jJi^y  judge  of  others,  not  by  the  laws  of  im- 
partial justice;  but  by  the  standard  of  self-interest.  The 
man,  who  upholds  their  opinions  and  furthers  their 
schemes,  though  he  trample  under  foot  all  that  is  virtu- 
ous and  sacred,  is  applauded  ;  while  the  most  excellent 
of  the  earth,  if  they  stand  in  the  way  of  their  interest 
or  honour,  are  exposed  to  their  revilings.  David  was 
called  a  usurper,  a  man  of  Belial,  a  murderer ;  and 
why  ?  Because  he  had  made  himself  the  slave  of  lust, 
and  had  cruelly  slain  the  noble  Uriah  ?  No ;  because 
he  had  l^een  elevated  by  God  to  the  throne  of  Israel, 
and  thus  marred  the  prospects  of  the  ambitious  Shimei. 
Innocence  then  is  no  protection  against  malice,  neither 
can  the  most  upright  conduct  prevent  us  from  being 
charged  with  those  very  crimes,  from  which  we  have 
been  the  most  anxious  to  keep  ourselves  free.  When 
the  views  of  the  ungodly  are  opposed  and  their  passions 
inflamed,  a  devout  David  is  a  son  of  Belial,  a  blame- 
less John  has  a  devil  and  is  mad,  and  the  holy  Saviour 
himself  is  a  wine-bibber  and  a  glutton. 

II.  But  let  us  turn  from  the  cruel  and  irrritating  con- 
duct of  this  disappointed  Israelite  to  a  more  pleasing 
subject  of  meditation,  and  consider,  secondly?  the  for- 
bearance which  David  manifested. 

1.  He  received  the  provocation  of  Shimei  with  the 
meekest  silence.  He  heard  his  accusations,  and  he  knew 


tSwards  Shimei.  323 

them  to  be  false  ;  but  he  answered  him  not  a  word. 
And  herein  he  acted  wisely,  as  well  as  meekly.  There 
are  indeed  cases,  in  which  it  becomes  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  vindicate  our  characters  at  any  risk  from  the 
calumnies  of  the  ungodly  ;  but  these  occasions  do  not 
often  occur.  When  our  enemies  are  much  incensed 
against  us,  it  will  generally  be  found  that  to  reply  to 
their  aspersions  serves  only  to  increase  their  violence, 
and  perhaps  to  give  them  an  advantage  over  us.  And 
even  were  it  not  so,,  where  is  the  man,  who  is  sure  that 
he  can  bridle  his  tongue,  when  he  has  once  suffered  it 
to  undertake  his  defence  ?  We  may  begin  with  vin- 
dicating our  own  integrity,  but,  we  shall  generally  end 
with  retorting  the  railings  of  our  persecutor.  Silence 
under  provocation  is  safety.  To  govern  our  lips  is,  in 
most  instances,  to  govern  our  hearts.  How  did  the  wise 
Hezekiah  command  his  servants  to  act,  when  the  officer 
of  the  haughty  Sennacherib  spake  against  him  in  the 
hearing  of  his  subjects?  *'  They  held  their  peace,  for 
the  king's  command  was,  'answer  him  not.'"  And 
what  was  the  conduct  of  a  greater  than  Hezekiah,  when 
his  enemies  whetted  their  tongues  like  a  sword  against 
him,  and  shot  forth  their  arrows  even  bitter  words? 
*'  Many  false  witnesses  testified  against  him,  but  Jesus 
held  his  peace."  When  they  oppressed  and  afflicted 
him,  he  opened  not  his  mouth  ;  and  when  they  led  him 
forth  to  torment  and  crucify  him,  "  he  was  brought  as 
a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  sheep  before  her 
shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his  mouth." 

2.  But  there  may  be  silence  where  there  is  no  meek- 
ness. No  railing  word  may  proceed  from  the  lips,  while 
the  deadliest  revenge  is  rankling  in  the  heart.  It  is 
necessary  therefore  that  we  should  observe,  secondly, 
that  David  forgave  the  provocation  of  Shimei,  as  well  as 


324  'Flie  Forbearance  of  David 

received  it  with  silence.  His  friends  around  him  were 
incensed  greatly  by  his  conduct,  and  were  eager  to  vin- 
dicate the  honour  of  their  insulted  monarch  with  their 
swords.  ^'  Why  should  this  dead  dog,  curse  my  lord, 
the  king?"  said  Abishai.  "  Let  me  go  over,  I  pray 
thee,  and  take  off  his  head."  But  David  reproved,  as 
well  as  repressed  his  zeal.  *^  What  have  I  to  do  with 
you,"  says  he,  "  ye  sons  of  Zeruiah?  Let  him  alone 
and  let  him  curse."  Now  this  was  not  the  language  of 
insensibility  nor  of  cowardice.  It  was  the  language  of 
self-denying  greatness,  patiently  enduring  the  injuries 
it  keenly  felt,  and  rising  superior  to  the  insults  it  might 
with  safety  have  revenged.  It  was  dictated  by  the  same 
spirit,  which  led  his  exalted  Son  to  rebuke  those  who 
were  eager  to  call  down  fire  from  heaven  on  his  per- 
secutors, and  to  restrain  the  impetuous  disciple  who 
wished  to  defend  his  beloved  master  with  the  sword. 
Would  the  conduct  of  David  then  have  been  either 
unlawful  or  sinful,  if  he  had  commanded  his  attendants 
to  have  taken  immediate  vengeance  on  Shimei  ?  It 
might  not  have  been  unlawful,  for  the  laws  of  Judea 
would  undoubtedly  have  condemned  the  traitor  to 
death,  and  the  power  of  carrying  them  into  execution 
was  vested  in  David's  hands  ;  but  laws  were  not  de- 
signed by  God  to  gratify  the  vindictive  passions  of  the 
human  heart.  It  is  as  sinful  to  seek  revenge  by  the 
arm  of  the  law,  as  to  seek  it  by  the  violence  of  our  own 
arm.  Not  that  every  appeal  to  the  tribunals  of  our 
country  is  necessarily  sinful.  God  has  erected  them 
among  us  for  the  very  purpose  of  redressing  the  in- 
jured; and  the  injured  are  warranted,  under  some 
circumstances,  in  demanding  satisfoction  for  the  wrongs 
they  have  received.  But  what  is  it,  that  must  lead  us 
to  the  seat  of  justice  ?  Malice  and  resentment  ?   a  dc- 


towards  Shimei.  s^5 

sire  of  giving  pain  to  the  man,  who  has  wronged  us, 
and  of  bringing  down  shame  and  vengeance  on  his 
head?  God  forbid  !  Our  cause  maybe  just;  but  in 
seeking  justice  with  such  feelings  as  these  in  our  hearts, 
we  are  sinning  against  God.  An  earthly  judge  may 
sanction  our  conduct,  but  the  great  Judge  of  all  will 
condemn  us.  Amidst  the  exultations  of  victory,  and  all 
the  dreadful  pleasure  which  satiated  revenge  can  af- 
ford, this  voice  from  heaven  is  directed  to  our  ears, 
*'  Vengeance  is  mine;  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord." 
The  king  of  Israel  therefore  dared  not  use  the  power 
he  possessed  against  his  insulting  enemy,  though  he 
might  have  lawfully  used  it.  He  spares  Shimei,  when 
a  word  from  his  lips  would  have  laid  him  dead  at  his 
feet,  and  leaves  to  the  world  an  example  of  forbearance, 
which  has  forced  even  the  ungodly,  to  honour  him,  and 
endeared  him  to  the  hearts  of  the  righteous. 

But  it  is  not  enough  that  we  admire  the  meekness 
of  David.  It  is  recorded  here  to  be  imitated.  It  may 
have  arrested  our  attention  and  even  affected  our  hearts 
by  the  elevated  spirit,  which  it  manifests ;  but  if  this 
be  all,  if  we  leave  this  house  of  prayer  with  minds  as 
proud  and  revengeful  as  they  were  when  we  entered  it, 
what  will  the  most  earnest  attention,  and  what  will  the 
liveliest  feelings  profit  us  ?  A  man  parched  with  thirst 
does  not  rest  contented  with  gazing  on  the  clearness 
of  the  water  before  him  ;  tlie  hungry  man  is  not  satis- 
fied with  admiring  the  splendour  of  the  banquet,  to 
which  he  is  invited ;  neither  does  he,  who  is  hunger- 
ing and  thirsting  after  righteousness,  content  himself 
with  merely  contemplating  the  graces,  which  the  Holy 
Spirit  has  exhibited  to  his  view.  He  desires  to  make 
them  his  own.  He  adds  to  attention  and  feeling,  prayer 
and  exertion.    He  strives,  in  dependence  on  almighty 


3^6  The  Forbearance  of  David 

aid,  to  clothe  himself  with  the  beauty  of  holiness.  Is 
this  your  desire,  brethren  ?  Let  this  then  be  your  con- 
duct. Pray  that  you  may  be  numbered  among  the 
meek  and  long-suffering,  the  tender-hearted  and  for- 
giving ;  and  show  the  sincerity  of  your  prayers  by 
your  actions.  Have  you  enemies  ?  Give  no  rest  to  your 
eyes  nor  slumber  to  your  eye-lids  till  you  have  prayed 
for  them,  who  have  despitefully  used  you  5  and  before 
another  sabbath  has  dawned,  let  some  act  of  kindness 
convince  them  that  you  are  determined  to  return  them 
good  for  their  evil.  Remember  the  command  of  your 
Lord  :  ^'  Agree  with  thine  adversary  quickly^  whilst 
thou  art  in  the  way  with  him."  There  is  no  time  for 
a  protracted  struggle  with  the  workings  of  resentment. 
Pride  must  be  conquered  to-day.  or  your  offending 
brother  may  be  sleeping  in  the  dust  before  the  victory 
is  won.  The  time  is  not  far  distant,  when  the  hand  of 
death  will  be  upon  us,  and  all  the  friendships  and  ha- 
treds of  life  come  to  an  end.  And  when  this  period 
arrives,  what  shall  we  think  of  the  jealousies  and  con- 
tentions, which  are  now  suffered  to  harass  us  ?  We 
shall  wonder  at  the  weakness,  which  made  us  so  liable 
to  be  affected  by  them  ;  and  supplicate  pardon  for  the 
depravity,  which  rendered  it  so  hard  to  forgive  them. 
If  then  there  be  any  root  of  bitterness  springing  up 
among  us,  this  very  day  let  it  be  plucked  up  ;  and  if 
our  enemies  will  not  be  won  by  our  meekness,  amidst 
all  their  reproaches  and  curses  let  this  be  the  most  re- 
vengeful feeling  that  is  cherished  in  our  breast,  and  this 
the  hardest  saying  that  proceeds  from  our  lips,  ^*  Fa- 
ther, forgive  them.  Lord,  lay  not  these  sins  to  their 
charge." 

A  review  of  the  history  before  us,  as  far  as  we  have 
considered  it,  is  calculated  to  impress  on  our  minds  a 


towards  Shimei,  327 

conviction  of  the  power  of  real  religion  ;  its  power,  not 
only  to  touch  the  fears  and  hopes  of  the  soul,  and  to 
fill  it  with  a  train  of  varied  and  deep  emotions ;  but 
the  mighty  power,  which  it  exercises  over  the  dispo- 
sitions, the  temper,  the  heart.  What  if  the  patience  of 
a  suffering  Jesus  prove  nothing  as  to  the  efficacy  of  his 
grace,  we  have  here  a  man  of  like  passions  with  our- 
selves, tried  by  insults  and  provocations  to  the  very 
utmost,  and  yet  silent  in  the  midst  of  them  all,  un- 
moved by  passion,  and  dead  to  every  feeling  of  revenge. 
AVhy  then  is  the  power  of  divine  grace  so  often  ques- 
tioned and  denied  ?  Why  are  we  so  frequently  told  that 
the  very  constitution  of  their  nature  prevents  some  men 
from  suppressing  the  risings  of  anger,  and  subduing 
the  workings  of  resentment  ?  The  conduct  of  David 
condemns  and  confutes  all  such  assertions.  It  shows 
us  how  much  provocation  real  religion  can  enable  a 
man  of  the  strongest  passions  to  bear  ;  what  a  complete 
victory  it  can  give  him  over  the  most  powerful  of  all 
enemies  himself — his  own  proud  and  revengeful  heart. 
It  takes  up  the  language  of  Paul,  and  while  it  com- 
mands us  to  forbear  one  another  and  forgive  one 
another,  it  tells  us  that  we  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ,  which  strengtheneth  us  ;  that  his  grace  is  suf- 
ficient for  us  ;  that  it  can  subdue  and  soften  the  most 
impetuous  mind,  and  mould  it  into  the  image  of  a  pa- 
tient God. 

When  therefore  we  are  commanded  to  love  our  ene- 
mies, to  bless  them  that  curse  us,  and  to  do  good  to 
them  that  hate  us,  instead  of  replying  that  nature  for- 
bids it,  let  us  remember  that  God  requires  it.  He  suf- 
fers the  brute  beasts,  that  have  no  understanding,  to 
follow  the  law  of  nature ;  but  he  calls  upon  man  to  be 
conformed  to  a  higher  and  nobler  law.    He  points  to 


338  The  Forbearance  of  David 

the  cross  of  his  persecuted  Son,  and  while  we  hear  hini 
praying  with  his  dying  breath  for  his  murderers,  he 
offers  us  his  grace  and  says,  "  Let  the  same  mind  that 
was  in  Christ  be  in  you."  And  what  is  the  language  of 
Jesus  himself?  Though  he  is  full  of  gentleness  and 
mercy,  he  reminds  us  of  the  torments  of  destruction, 
and  tells  us  in  terms  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood, 
"  So  likewise  shall  my  heavenly  Father  do  also  unto 
you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every  one  his 
brother  their  trespasses." 

This  history  reminds  us  also  of  the  dignity^  which  a 
-meek  and  forgiving  spirit  imparts  to  the  Christia?i.  The 
Bible  tells  us  that  it  is  the  glory  of  a  man  to  pass  over 
a  transgression,  and  it  gives  us  in  this  chapter  a  con- 
firmation of  the  saying.  We  have  here  two  men  before 
us  differing,  almost  as  much  as  men  could  differ,  in 
their  dispositions  and  conduct ;  the  one  indulging  with- 
out restraint  the  resentment  he  had  long  cherished  in 
his  breast,  the  other  receiving  the  most  cruel  and  irri- 
tating provocations  in  silence,  enduring  and  forgiving 
them.  Now  could  we  have  witnessed  the  scene,  which 
the  Holy  Spirit  has  here  described,  and  been  at  the 
same  time  altogether  ignorant  of  the  character  and  rank 
of  the  persons  before  us,  which  of  these  two  men  should 
we  have  pronounced  the  most  honourable,  the  cursing 
Benjamite  or  the  patient  David  ?  If  we  have  the  feel- 
ings of  men,  we  should  have  turned  with  pity  and  dis- 
gust from  the  one,  and  been  ready  to  prostrate  our- 
selves with  admiration  and  reverence  at  the  feet  of  the 
other. 

Here  then  is  a  lesson  for  those,  who  are  striving  to 
raise  themselves  to  honour.  You  wish  to  be  highly 
esteemed  among  men,  and,  in  order  to  procure  their 
respect,   you  imagine  that  no  real  or  supposed  insult 


towards  Shimei.  329 

must  pass  unrevenged,  and  that  you  must  commence 
an  arduous  struggle  for  superiority  in  rank  and  in  con- 
sequence. Is  then  the  object  of  your  wishes  to  be  at- 
tained by  such  means  as  these  ?  Will  pride,  anger,  and 
turbulence,  make  a  man  honourable  and  great  ?  Im- 
possible. This  vvould  be  to  seek  honour  in  a  way, 
which  God  has  determined  shall  never  lead  to  it ;  and 
all  the  fruit  of  such  disquieting  labours  will  be  the  pity 
of  the  good,  and  the  contempt  of  the  unfeeling.  Cease 
then  from  the  foolish  attempt.  Go  and  sit  at  the  feet  of 
David,  and  let  him  teach  you  that  the  readiest,  the 
surest,  the  safest  way  to  exalt  yourselves,  is  to  lie  low 
and  be  humble,  to  be  meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  to 
triumph  over  the  pride  and  the  folly,  which  have  hi- 
therto been  leading  you  captive.  The  path  to  real  great- 
ness is  pointed  out  to  you  in  this  history.  It  is-  the 
path  of  self-denial  and  meekness.  The  indulgence  of 
passion  and  resentment,  can  lead  only  to  shame.  What 
being  in  the  universe  is  the  most  degraded  and  vile  ? 
That  unclean  spirit,  who  is  the  proudest  and  most  ma- 
licious. And  in  whom  may  be  found  the  highest  dig- 
nity and  greatness  ?  Even  in  him,  who  is  the  most  long- 
suffering,  the  readiest  to  forbear,  and  the  most  willing 
to  pardon.  The  high  and  lofty  One,  who  inhabiteth 
eternity,  esteems  that  spirit  of  patience  and  forgiveness, 
which  is  so  much  despised  upon  earth,  the  chief  glory 
of  his  name,  and  the  brightest  gem  in  his  wonderful 
crown.  "  I  beseech  thee  show  me  thy  glory,"  said 
Moses;  and  what  is  the  answer,  which  the  Lord  returns 
to  his  servant  ?  Do  we  see  him  bowing  the  heavens, 
and  coming  down  in  his  majesty ;  making  the  clouds 
his  chariot,  and  flying  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind  ?  Do 
we  hear  the  host  of  his  angels  proclaiming,  amidst 
thunders,  and  lightnings,  and  blackness,  and  darkness, 

Tt 


330         The  Forbearance  of  David,  &c, 

and  tempest,  that  the  Lord  God  almighty  is  a  consum- 
ing fire  ?  No  ;  he  takes  no  other  symbol  of  his  presence 
than  the  cloudy  pillar,  by  which  he  was  protecting  and 
guiding  his  people,  and  in  a  still  small  voice  he  pro- 
claims from  it  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;  "  The  Lord,  the 
Lord  God  ;  merciful  and  gracious ;  long-suffering,  and 
abundant  in  goodness  and  truth ;  keepmg  mercy  for 
thousands,  forgiving  iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin." 
Where  is  the  penitent  sinner,  who  does  not  give  his 
despair  to  the  winds,  as  he  listens  to  such  v/ords  as 
these  ?  And  where  is  the  persecuted  Christian,  who 
does  not  long  to  forgive  his  enemies  as  freely  and  fully, 
as  this  glorious  God  has  forgiven  him  ? 


SERMON  XXI. 


THE  GROUNDS  OF  DAVID'S  FORBEARANCE 
TOWARDS  SHIMEI. 


:3  SAMUEL  xvi.  11,  1^. 


.Ind  David  said  to  Abishai,  and  to  all  his  servants,  "  Behold,  my  so?i 
which  came  forth  of  my  bowels,  seeketh  my  life;  how  much  more  now 
maij  thifi  Benjamite  do  it  !  Let  him  alone,  and  let  him  curse,  for  the 
Lord  hath  bidden  him.  It  may  be  that  the  Lord  will  look  on  mine 
afflictlo7i,  and  that  the  Lord  will  requite  me  good  for  his  cursing 
.this  day." 


E  are  all  disposed,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to 
trace  effects  to  their  causes.  As  soon  as  we  begin  to 
think,  we  begin  to  make  enquiries  concerning  the  ope- 
rations of  nature,  and  to  examine  the  productions  of 
human  skill.  But  amidst  the  many  objects  which  en- 
gage our  attention,  it  is  strange  that  the  structure  and 
workings  of  our  own  minds,  should  so  little  occupy  our 
thoughts.  Next  to  the  contemplation  of  the  glorious 
Jehovah,  there  cannot  be  a  more  profitable  subject  of 
investigation  than  the  human  heart;  and  he  may  un- 
doubtedly be  considered  the  wisest  among  men,  and 
will  generally  be  found  to  be  the  best,  who  is  the  most 
acquainted  with  its  varied  movements.  God  himself  has 
commanded  us  to  commune  with  our  own  hearts ;  and 
to  excite  and  encourage  us  to  look  into  ourselves,  he 
often  lays  open  to  our  view  in  the  Scriptures  the  hearts 
of  others.  He  unfolds  the  hidden  causes,  from  which 
their  actions  have  proceeded,  and  thus  points  out  to  us 


333  The  Grounds  of  David's 

the  principles  and  feelings,  which  must  be  cherished 
in  our  own  breasts,  if  we  would  imitate  their  virtues. 
The  words  of  the  text  afford  us  a  striking  instance  of 
this  method  of  instruction.    They  exhibit  to  us  one  of 
the  noblest  triumphs,  which  almighty  grace  ever  ena- 
bled a  feeble  sinner  to  obtain  over  the  corruptions   of 
his  nature ;  and  while  we  are  admiring  and  almost  en- 
vying the  conquering  servant  of  God,  they  show  us  the 
'  weapons,  by  which  the  victory  was  won.   David  in  his 
adversity,  receives  from  Shimei  an  undeserved,  a  cruel, 
and  most  irritating  provocation ;  he  reviles  him,  and 
curses  him,  and  casts  stones  at  him  :   but  the  afflicted 
monarch  bears  all  his  insults  with  silent  meekness ;  he 
forgives  and  protects  his  railing  enemy  ;  and  here  in  the 
text  he  discloses  to  his  wondering  attendants  the  feel- 
ings, which  actuated  his  conduct  towards  him-     "Be- 
hold," says  he,  "  my  son,  which  came  forth  of  my 
bowels,  seeketh  my  life ;  how  much  more  now  may  this 
Benjamite  do  it !  Let  him  alone,  and  let  him  curse,  for 
the  Lord  hath  bidden  him.     It  may  be  that  the  Lord 
will  look  on  mine  affliction,  and  that  the  Lord  will  re- 
quite me  good  for  his  cursing  this  day." 

These  affecting  words  evidently  direct  our  attention 
to  the  grounds  of  David's  forbearance  towards  Shimei  : 
and  they  convince  us  at  once,  that  this  forbearance  did 
not  proceed  from  a  want  of  feeling,  or  a  natural  hard- 
ness of  heart.  Some  men  seem  to  bear  provocations,  as 
a  stone  may  be  said  to  bear  them.  They  excite  no  re- 
sentment in  their  minds,  for  they  are  not  felt.  But  this 
insensibility  is  not  Christian  meekness.  We  must  feci 
before  we  can  forgive  ;  and  that  forgiveness  is  the  most 
exalted  in  its  nature,  which  is  accompanied  with  the 
keenest  sense  of  the  injuries  it  pardons.  Neither  was 
this  the  meekness  of  David.  His  was  one  of  the  warmest 


Forbearance  towards  Shimei.  333 

hearts,  which  ever  beat  in  a  human  breast.  Every  act 
of  kindness  had  power  to  move  it,  and  he  himself  tells 
us  that  reproach  could  almost  break  it. 

I.  His  forbearance  must  be  traced,  first,  to  the  soften- 
ing infiuence  of  affliction.  "  Behold,"  says  he,  "  my 
son,  which  came  forth  of  my  bowels,  seeketh  my  life  ; 
how  much  more  now  may  this  Benjamite  do  it !"  He 
here  reminds  his  servants  of  the  trials,  under  which  he 
was  suffering;  and  intimates  to  them,  that  the  father, 
who  had  to  bear  with  the  cruelty  of  a  beloved  son, 
could  find  but  little  difficulty  in  pardoning  the  insults 
of  a  reviling  enemy  ;  that  the  greater  affliction  had  pre- 
pared his  mind  for  the  less,  and  enabled  him  to  be  sub- 
missive under  it. 

*'^  Tribulation,"  says  the  apostle,  "  worketh  patience." 
It  calls  the  patience  of  the  Christian  into  exercise,  and 
consequently  strengthens  it.  It  enables  him  to  bear 
even  the  indignation  of  an  almighty  God ;  much  more 
the  reproaches  of  a  feeble  man.  And  what  is  the  lan- 
guage of  daily  experience  ?  It  confirms  the  testimony 
of  the  apostle.  Who  are  the  proud  and  revengeful 
among  mankind  ?  They,  who  have  known  but  little  of 
the  calamities  of  life,  and  been  tossed  by  few  of  its 
storms.  But  where  shall  we  look  for  the  meek  and  long- 
suffering  ?  Among  the  children  of  affliction  ;  among 
those,  whom  the  archers  have  sorely  grieved,  and  the 
shafts  of  adversity  deeply  wounded.  The  afflicted 
Christian  then  must  remember,  that  the  more  he  is 
called  on  to  bear,  the  more  he  is  expected  to  be  able 
to  bear;  that  his  heavenly  Father  sends  him  troubles  to 
soften  the  fierceness  of  his  nature,  and  to  make  him 
meek  and  lowly  ;  that  no  sorrows,  however  severely 
felt,  and  patiently  borne,  have  done  their  appointed 
work  in  his  heart,  unless  they  have  taught  him  to  love 


334i  The  Grounds  of  David's 

his  enemies,  to  bless  them  when  they  curse  him,  and 
to  pray  for  them,  when  they  despitefully  use  him. 

11.  We  may  observe  further,  that  David  was  assisted 
in  subduing  his  resentment  bi/  tracing  the  persecution 
he  received^  to  God.  "  Let  him  curse,"  said  he  to  the 
indignant  Abishai,  "  because  the  Lord  hath  said  unto 
him,  *  Curse  David.'  Who  shall  then  say,  '  Wherefore 
hast  thou  done  so  V  Let  him  alone,  and  let  him  curse, 
for  the  Lord  hath  bidden  him."  Had  Shimei  then  really 
received  a  command  from  God  to  persecute  his  sove- 
reign ?  No  ;  his  duty  was  to  have  honoured  and  assisted 
him.  But  David  looked  above  the  instrument,  to  the 
hand  which  ern ployed  it,  and  he  bowed  with  reverence 
to  the  stroke  it  inflicted,  regarding  it  as  coming,  not 
from  the  scourge  of  man,  but  from  his  Father's  rod. 

Here  then  we  are  taught  that  the  revilings  of  the  un- 
godly, as  well  as  the  natural  evils  of  life,  must  be 
ascribed  to  a  chastising  God  ;  that  the  malice  and  cru- 
elty of  the  world  are  no  less  the  instruments  of  work- 
ing his  will,  than  the  diseases  which  assail  our  bodies, 
or  the  storms  which  lay  waste  our  dvveUings.  He 
maketh  even  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  him.  Holding 
all  things  in  his  mighty  grasp,  and  bending  them  to  his 
will,  he  forces  the  wild  passions  of  the  human  heart  to 
do  him  service,  to  minister  to  his  glory,  and  to  humble 
and  sanctify  his  beloved  saints.  Not  that  he  excites 
men  to  acts  of  injustice,  or  that  evil  ceases  to  be  evil 
when  he  overrules  it  for  good.  The  people  of  Jerusa- 
lem, when  they  slew  the  Lord  of  glory,  were  only  ga- 
thered together  to  do  what  the  hand  and  counsel  of  God 
had  determined  before  in  the  riches  of  his  grace,  to  be 
done ;  but  it  was  the  prince  of  this  world,  who  came 
and  instigated  Judas  to  betray  the  holy  Jesus,  and  the 
Jews  to  crucify  him.    Millions  of  the  perishing  have 


Fm^bearajice  towards  Shimei.  335 

been  saved  through  their  crime ;  but  the  guilt  of  it 
rested  on  their  heads,  and  still  rests  on  the  heads  of 
tlieir  wretched  children. 

But  while  the  words  of  the  persecuted  king  of  Israel 
teach  us  to  ascribe  the  injuries  we  receive  to  God,  his 
conduct  shows  us  the  advantage  of  thus  connecting 
them  with  him.  We  shall  be  enabled  to  bear  them  with 
tranquillity  and  patience.  While  we  consider  any  of 
our  trials  as  proceeding  solely  from  the  hostile  and  evil 
dispositions  of  our  fellow  creatures,  it  is  impossible  to 
be  submissive  under  them.  They  must  disturb  our 
peace,  and  excite  our  resentment.  But  let  us  once  re- 
gard them  as  coming  from  the  unseen  hand  of  a  Being, 
who  loves  us,  and  these  agitating  provocations  seem  to 
change  their  very  nature  ;  they  appear  in  another  light, 
and  the  feelings,  which  accompany  them,  are  of  a  new 
and  altogether  different  kind.  Anger  against  the  offend- 
ing creature,  gives  place  to  humiliation  before  the  of- 
fended Creator,  and  the  thirst  for  revenge  is  succeeded 
by  an  earnest  seeking  after  mercy.  When  therefore  our 
enemies  speak  evil  of  us,  here  lies  the  secret  of  pos- 
sessing our  souls  in  patience, — to  look  through  second 
causes  and  human  agency,  and  to  say  with  David, 
"  The  Lord  hath  bidden  them."  When  they  oppress 
and  afflict  us,  this  is  the  source,  from  which  we  must 
draw  our  meekness,  and  this  the  reasoning,  by  which 
we  must  silence  all  the  suggestions  of  revenge,  "  The 
cup,  which  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not 
drink  it?" 

111.  Hence  the  forbearance  of  David  may  be  ascribed, 
thirdly,  to  a  sense  of  sin.  This  is  not  indeed  expressly 
mentioned  by  him  in  the  text ;  but  the  abrupt  language, 
which  he  uses,  evidently  implies  it.  Shimei  accused 
him  of  the  death  of  Saul,  and  of  this  charge  his  con- 


336  The  Grounds  of  David's 

science  acquitted  him  ;  but  the  accusations  of  his  enemy 
brought  the  murdered  Uriah  to  his  mind,  and  while  he 
hears  himself  called  a  bloody  man,  he  submits  with  re- 
signation to  the  reproaches,  with  which  an  avenging 
God  permits  him  to  be  assailed. 

And  what  provocation  is  there,  which  a  deep  sense 
of  sin  will  not  enable  us  to  bear  ?  To  have  a  broken 
and  contrite  heart,  is  to  have  a  heart  prepared  for  every 
provocation,  and  unable  to  be  overcome  by  any.  Go 
to  the  man,  whom  a  heavenly  instructor  has  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  hidden  depravity  of  his  nature;  who 
is  day  by  day  retiring  to  his  closet  to  mourn  over  his 
sins,  and  who  often  waters  his  couch  with  tears  by  night, 
as  he  thinks  of  his  transgressions  ;  try  the  patience  of 
the  stricken  penitent,  by  insults  and  revilings,  and  what 
is  the  result  ?  Does  his  eye  flash  with  rage,  and  is  his 
tongue  heard  to  call  for  fire  from  heaven  to  avenge  his 
wrongs?  "  No,"  says  the  wounded  Christian,  "  1  am  a 
sinner,  and  wrath  must  not  lodge  in  a  sinner's  soul.  I 
may  be  reviled,  but  what  a  miracle  of  mercy  is  it  that 
I  am  not  consumed!  Men  may  reproach  me,  but  how 
ought  1  to  wonder  that  my  God  forbears  to  curse  and 
destroy  me !  Am  1  not  hour  after  hour  provoking  iiis 
indignation,  trying  his  long-suffering  to  the  very  ut- 
most? And  shall  1,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  sins  1  am 
committing,  and  all  the  patience  and  mercy  I  am  re- 
ceiving, refuse  to  bear  with  the  fellow-sinner,' whom  he 
sends  to  me  to  call  my  guilt  to  remembrance  ?  Shall 
the  never-dying  worm  be  withheld,  and  yet  the  wretch, 
who  deserves  its  anguish,  make  a  reviling  word  an  oc- 
casion of  malice?  Shall  the  righteous  judge  be  so  ready 
to  pardon,  and  the  criminal,  whom  he  has  saved  from 
execution,  so  quick  to  revenge  ?  O  let  me  struggle  with 
the  answer,  that  is  so  often  rising  withip  me.  Let  a  sensp 


Forbearance  towards  Shimei.  337 

of  my  guilt  drive  it  from  my  soul,  and  cause  me  to 
adore  the  patience,  which  keeps  me  from  destruction  !" 

Is  this  the  language  of  your  hearts,  brethren,  when 
you  are  tried  by  provocations  ?  It  surely  ought  to  be 
their  language  ;  for  which  of  you  can  say  that  you  have 
lived  a  single  hour  without  incurring  the  displeasure  of 
God,  and  experiencing  his  forbearance  ?  We  are  all  the 
children  of  wrath  ;  our  multiplied  sins  have  made  it  our 
portion  ;  and  yet  where  are  we  ?  Lifting  up  our  eyes  in 
the  torments  we  have  merited  ?  No  ;  v/e  are  living  in  a 
world  of  mercy,  upheld  by  the  power  of  the  very  Being 
whom  we  are  hourly  offending,  and  fed  by  his  bounty. 
And  why  does  he  keep  us  here  ?  That  he  may  make 
us  an  offer  of  reconciliation ;  and  when  we  despise  and 
spurn  his  mercy,  that  he  may  offer  it  to  us  again,  and 
beseech  us  to  accept  it  j  that  we  may  be  softened  and 
won  by  the  love,  which  sent  his  Son  to  the  cross,  and 
lay  hold  of  the  glorious  salvation  which  he  has  pur- 
chased for  our  race.  And  can  we  be  really  aware  of  our 
situation,  can  we  be  really  mindful  of  our  sinfulness 
and  the  stupendous  mercy  that  bears  with  it,  and  yet 
indulge  wrath  and  resentment?  Can  revenge  dwell  in 
the  same  heart  with  penitence,  or  malice  reign  over  the 
soul,  that  is  affected,  and  warmed,  and  constrained  by 
the  reconciling  love  of  Jehovah  ?  As  soon  might  the 
gloom  of  midnight  mingle  with  the  noon-day  bright- 
ness, or  the  storms  of  winter  rage  in  the  summer  calm. 

IV.  The  forbearance  of  David  proceeded,  fourthly, 
from  an  humble  expectation  of  a  recompense  from  God. 
Though  he  had  sinned  against  him,  and  was  suffering 
under  his  righteous  displeasure,  he  knew  that  the  Lord 
had  not  utterly  taken  away  his  loving-kindness  from 
him;  that  he  was  his  Father  still,  pitying  him  in  his 
sorrows,  and  making  his  chastisements  blessings  to  his 

Uu 


338  The  Grounds  of  David's 

soul.  "  It  may  be,"  said  the  confiding  saint,  "  that  the 
Lord  will  look  on  mine  affliction,  and  that  the  Lord 
will  requite  me  good  for  his  cursing  this  day."  And 
was  he  disappointed  in  his  hope  ?  No  ;  the  throne, 
which  had  been  wrested  from  him,  was  soon  restored 
to  him  again,  and  he  saw  tlTe  persecuting  Shimei  kneel- 
ing at  his  feet.  Neither  was  this  all.  The  God,  in  whom 
he  hoped,  recorded  in  his  word  the  patience  of  his  ser- 
vant, and  is  giving  him  at  the  present  moment,  its 
peaceable  fruits. 

What  a  povv'erful  motive  to  patience  and  forbearance 
is  here  !  When  we  are  persecuted,  the  Lord  looketh  on 
our  afflictions.  *'  He  knows  our  reproach,  and  our 
bhame,  and  our  dishonour;  our  adversaries  are  all  be- 
fore  him."  Not  one  step  can  they  take,  but  he  marks 
it  well ;  not  a  reviling  word  can  they  utter,  which  he 
does  not  hear.  Nay  more  ;  not  a  reproach  can  they  offer 
us,  which  he  will  not  recompense.  There  is  a  blessing 
connected  with  every  curse  of  the  ungodly  ;  and  when 
we  arrive  in  heaven,  we  shall  wonder  to  see  how  much 
their  revilings  have  added  to  the  brightness  of  our 
crown.  What  is  persecution  then  ?  An  evil  to  be  en- 
dured and  forgotten  ?  It  is  a  blessing  to  be  prized.  It 
may  be  grievous  to  flesh  and  blood ;  but  he,  who  re- 
vealed himself  to  the  persecuted  Stephen,  still  looks 
down  on  his  suffering  people,  and  gives  them  from  the 
throne  of  his  glory  the  same  cheering  assurance,  which 
he  gave  them  on  earth,  "Blessed  are  ye,  when  men 
shall  revile  you,  and  persecute  you,  and  shall  say  all 
manner  of  evil  against  you  falsely  for  my  sake.  Rejoice 
and  be  exceeding  glad,  for  great  is  your  reward  in 
heaven." 

But  llie  language  of  David  does  not  concern  the  per- 
secuted only.  It  calls  upon  the  despiteful  and  injurious 


Forbearance  towards  Shimei.  339 

to  consider  their  ways.  You  feel  perhaps,  brethren,  a 
strong  and  ahuost  unconquerable  enmity  against  some 
professors  of  religion.  Their  principles  appear  to  you 
degrading,  and  their  conduct  absurd.  You  consequently 
think  yourselves  warranted  in  directing  heavy  censures 
against  them,  and  too  often  their  fnconsistencies  appear 
to  sanction  your  reproaches.  But  what,  if  the  men  you 
are  reviling  should  be  really  holier  than  you ;  and, 
though  poor  and  afflicted,  the  beloved  servants  of  the 
living  God  ?  Will  their  meanness  stop  your  revilings 
from  ascending  to  heaven,  or  their  infirmities  prevent 
your  hard  sayings  from  being  registered  there?  Not 
even  though  they  themselves  should  pray  that  these 
sins  may  not  be  laid  to  your  charge.  And  what  will  be 
the  fruit  of  all  the  railings  you  have  so  thoughtlessly 
and  cruelly  directed  against  them  ?  Like  waves  dashing 
against  a  rock,  they  will  return  on  yourselves,  and 
overwhelm  you  with  shame  and  confusion.  The  Chris- 
tian dares  not  avenge  the  wrongs  he  receives,  but  every 
injury  that  he  pardons,  God  will  resent.  The  day  of 
vengeance  is  already  in  his  heart,  and  he  will  soon  ap- 
pear in  the  terrors  of  his  majesty,  to  avenge  his  abused 
and  despised  elect.  Before  an  assembled  world  he  will 
plead  their  cause.  ''  He  will  be  with  them  as  a  mighty 
and  terrible  one,  and  then  shall  their  persecutors  stum- 
ble, and  shall  not  prevail ;  they  shall  be  greatly  ashamed, 
and  their  everlasting  confusion  shall  not  be  forgotten." 
The  words,  on  which  we  have  now  been  meditating, 
warrant  us  to  infer,  in  conclusion,  that  David  was  not 
of  a  revengeful  disposition,  A  mind  so  softened  by  af- 
fliction, so  fixed  on  God,  so  full  of  contrition  and  of 
faith,  could  not  be  revengeful.  What  meaning  then 
must  we  assign  to  the  charge,  which  this  injured  mo- 
narch gave  to  his  son.  when  the  days  drew  nigh  that  he 


340        -  *    TJie  Grounds  of  David's 

should  die?  "Behold,"  says  he,  "  thou  hast  with  thee 
Shimei,  the  son  of  Gera,  a  Benjamite  of  Bahurim, 
which  cursed  me  with  a  grievous  curse  when  I  went 
to  Mahanaim  ;  but  he  came  down  to  meet  me  at  Jor- 
danj  and  1  sware  to  him  by  the  Lord,  saying,  *  I  will 
not  put  thee  to  death  with  the  sword.'  Now  therefore, 
hold  him  not  guiltless,  for  thou  art  a  wise  man,  and 
knowest  what  thou  oughtest  to  do  unto  him ;  but  his 
hoar  head  bring  thou  down  to  the  grave  with  blood." 
These  words  have  often  been  represented  as  proceeding 
from  a  long-cherished  and  inveterate  desire  of  revenge; 
but  into  what  an  inextricable  difficulty  does  this  inter- 
pretation bring  us  ?  We  behold  a  man  of  warm  pas- 
sions grossly  and  cruelly  insulted ;  and,  though  armed 
with  lawful  authority  to  punish  the  injury,  and  urged 
by  those  around  him  to  exercise  it,  yet  quietly  submit- 
ting to  the  insult,  sparing  and  even  protecting  his 
enemy.  We  follow  him  a  little  farther,  and  we  hear  him 
publicly  declaring  the  pardon  of  the  offender,  and  con- 
firming it  with  an  oath.  Hitherto  all  is  consistent,  but 
now  the  mystery  begins.  When  this  same  man  is 
brought  to  the  bed  of  death,  in  the  very  hour  when  the 
prospect  of  eternity  generally  causes  the  most  revenge- 
ful to  lay  aside  their  malice,  we  find  him  suddenly 
thirsting  for  vengeance,  and  without  any  fresh  provoca- 
tion, coolly  ordering  the  death  of  the  enemy,  whom  he 
had  long  ago  pardoned. 

And  not  only  this,  but  the  conduct  of  Solomon  is  as 
mysterious  as  that  of  David.  Instead  of  at  once  con- 
demning the  traitor  to  death,  agreeably  to  the  dying 
command  of  his  father,  he  allows  him  to  remain  for 
three  years  unmolested  in  Jerusalem  ;  and  when  he  is 
at  length  ordered  to  execution,  he  sufiers,  not  for  his 
former  crime,  but  for  a  new  act  of  disobedience. 


Forbearance  towards  Shiinei.  341 

How  then  are  we  to  account  for  such  inconsistencies  ? 
They  cannot  be  reconciled  ;  and  the  language  of  David 
not  only  admits,  but  absolutely  requires  a  different  in- 
terpretation. We  must  consider  it  as  dictated,  not  by  a 
desire  of  revenge,  but  by  a  regard  to  justice,  and  a  wise 
and  pious  concern  for  the  peace  of  the  kingdom,  which 
Shimei  wished  to  disturb.  We  have  reason  to  think, 
that  the  enmity  of  this  ambitious  man  against  the  fa- 
mily of  David,  was  not  overcome  by  the  lenity  he  had 
experienced,  and  that  after  his  pardon  he  still  continued 
his  seditious  eftbrts  to  reinstate  the  family  of  Saul  upon 
the  throne.  When  therefore,  the  sceptre  of  Israel  was 
about  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  his  inexperienced  son, 
it  was  natural  and  necessary  that  David  should  warn 
him  of  the  treacherous  designs  of  his  enemy,  and  give 
him  his  full  permission  to  inflict  on  him  the  punish- 
ment he  merited.  "  Hold  him  not  guiltless,"  says  he. 
*'  Remember  his  conduct  towards  thy  father,  and  re- 
gard him  as  the  base  and  determined  enemy  of  thy  fa- 
mily and  throne.  I  do  not  command  thee  at  once  to 
take  away  his  life;  for  though  it  has  long  been  forfeited, 
thou  art  a  wise  man,  and  knowest  what  thou  oughtest 
to  do  unto  him.  Only  marKf  his  conduct;  and  as  soon 
as  he  is  detected  in  any  fresh  act  of  rebellion,  let  not  the 
oath  1  have  given  him  withhold  thine  hand.  The  peace 
of  thy  kingdom  requires  that  thou  shouldst  surrender 
him  to  justice,  and  thou  must  bring  down  his  hoar 
head  to  the  grave  with  blood."  Agreeably  to  this  ad- 
vice, Solomon  sends  for  Shimei  as  soon  as  he  has 
ascended  the  throne ;  orders  him  to  remain  in  Jerusa- 
lem, where  all  his  movements  might  be  watched,  and 
never  touches  a  hair  of  his  head,  till  he  had  broken  the 
command  of  the  king,  and  again  forfeited  his  life. 

Now  if  this  be  a  faithful  interpretation  of  the  words 


34^  The  Grounds  of  David's 

of  David,  why  is  this  afflicted  servant  of  God  so  often 
followed  to  his  death-bed  to  be  censured  and  reviled  ? 
The  reason  is  obvious.  The  pretended  believer  in  the 
Bible  accuses  him  of  malice,  that  he  may  lower  the 
standard  of  Christian  holiness  to  his  own  ungodly  prac- 
tice, and  vindicate  the  indulgence  of  the  fiery  passions, 
which  he  cannot  be  prevailed  on  to  subdue ;  while  the 
infidel  delights  in  ascribing  vices  to  the  man,  whose 
virtues  he  is  too  feeble  to  disprove,  and  too  unholy  to 
imitate.  But  let  the  hypocrite  remember  that  one  sinful 
disposition  habitually  indulged,  though  sanctioned  by 
the  example  of  all  the  creatures  in  the  universe,  will 
assuredly  ruin  his  soul ;  and  let  the  deluded  sceptic  be- 
ware how  he  cavils  at  that,  which  he  is  either  too 
thoughtless  or  too  prejudiced  to  understand,  lest  in 
attempting  to  show  his  superior  wisdom,  he  manifest 
only  the  greatness  of  his  folly.  There  is  a  noble  care- 
lessness in  the  inspired  writings,  which  seems  to  invite 
the  attacks  of  the  blasphemer,  but  a  hidden  strength, 
which  is  sure  to  repel  them. 

We  may  infer  also  from  the  text  the  reason,  -why  so 
much  importance  is  attached  in  the  Scriptures  to  a  for- 
giving spirit.  It  is  impossible  to  read  the  New  Testa- 
ment without  being  struck  with  the  frequency,  with 
which  this  Christian  grace  is  inculcated,  and  the  pecu- 
liar sanctions,  by  which  the  practice  of  it  is  enforced. 
Not  only  the  sincerity  of  our  religious  profession,  but 
even  our  eternal  salvation  is  made  to  depend  on  our 
possessing  it.  "  If  ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses," 
says  Christ,  "  your  heavenly  Father  will  also  forgive 
you  ;  but  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses,  neither 
will  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses." 

Why  then,  it  may  be  asked,  is  this  duty  so  earnestly 
and  so  solemnly  urged  on  us  ?     And  why  are  conse- 


Forbearance  towards  Shhnei.  343 

quences  so  fearfully  important,  connected  with  the 
breach  of  it?  The  text  answers  these  enquiries.  It 
shows  us  the  grounds,  from  which  Christian  forgive- 
ness proceeds ;  and  consequently  it  discovers  to  us  the 
dispositions,  of  which  the  revengeful  are  destitute. 
And  what  are  these  dispositions  ?  A  mind  softened  and 
subdued  by  the  chastisements  of  heaven,  and  cherish- 
ing a  firm  and  ever  active  belief  in  a  superintending 
providence  ;  a  heart  deeply  conscious  of  its  guilt,  and 
yet  stedfastly  hoping  in  the  mercy  of  its  God.  Now  it 
is  plain  that  these  spiritual  gifts  lie  at  the  very  founda- 
tion of  true  religion  ;  that  the  sinner,  who  is  destitute 
of  them,  can  offer  to  God  no  worship  which  he  will  ac- 
cept, nor  have  one  feeling  in  his  heart  which  he  will 
approve.  And  is  not  this  inference  also  equally  plain, 
that  as  long  as  we  remain  the  slaves  of  passion,  malice, 
and  wrath,  we  are  utter  strangers  to  that  grace,  which 
bringeth  salvation?  that  our  convictions  of  sin,  however 
deep,  are  not  the  fruits  of  genuine  contrition,  but  the 
mere  workings  of  a  guilty  conscience  ?  that  our  foith  is 
presumption,  and  our  hope  a  delusion  ? 

Will  your  religion  then,  !)ear  to  be  brought  to  this 
test?  Has  it  subdued  the  malignant  passions  of  your 
nature  ?  It  found  you  irritable  and  revengeful ;  has  it 
made  you  patient  and  forgiving  ?  In  your  daily  inter- 
course with  your  fellow-sinners,  are  you  seen  to  be 
walking  as  the  disciples  of  a  meek  and  lowly  Saviour, 
and  the  children  of  a  long-suffering  God  ? 

It  is  vain,  brethren,  to  turn  away  from  such  questions 
as  these.  It  is  vain  to  despise  them  as  legal,  or  to  slight 
them  as  righteous  over- much.  That  holy  Jesus,  who 
will  one  day  call  us  to  his  bar,  will  never  forget  nor 
despise  these  tests  of  our  faith.  On  the  throne  of  his 
glory,  he  will  try  us  by  them ;  yeai  he  is  trying  us  by 


344  The  Grounds  of  David's,  &c. 

them  now,  and  deciding  by  them  whether  we  are  among 
the  people,  whom  he  has  purchased  with  his  blood. 
Judge  yourselves  then  by  the  standard,  by  which  you 
are  judged  of  your  Lord.  Bring  your  dispositions  and 
tempers,  as  well  as  your  opinions  and  feelings,  to  the 
test  of  Scripture.  What  is  that  religion  worth,  which 
does  not  sweeten  the  temper  and  reign  over  the  heart  ? 
It  may  clothe  a  man  with  the  form  of  godliness  ;  it  may 
give  rise  to  many  lively  emotions  within  him  ;  it  may 
quiet  his  conscience ;  it  may  even  send  him  out  of  the 
world  tranquil  and  fearless :  but  it  cannot  make  him 
meet  for  a  kingdom  of  peace  and  of  love ;  it  cannot  save 
his  soul.  The  wisdom,  which  is  from  above,  is  first 
pure,  then  peaceable  and  gentle  ;  but  that,  which  leaves 
bitter  envying  and  strife  in  the  heart,  "  descendeth  not 
from  above,  but  is  earthly,  sensual,  and  devilish."  He 
who  is  under  its  influence,  and  yet  calls  himself  a  be- 
liever in  Jesus,  lies  against  the  truth,  and  his  glory  shall 
be  turned  into  shame.  But  what  shall  be  the  portion  of 
those,  whom  a  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  a  sense  of 
pardoning  love,  have  made  the  followers  of  peace  ? 
"  They  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God.'*  The  God 
of  peace  shall  be  with  them,  and  bless  them  while  they 
live  ;  and  when  they  die,  they  shall  see  the  Lord.  They 
shall  go  to  a  world,  where  the  wicked  cease  from 
troubling,  and  where  the  weary  are  at  rest.  They  shall 
dwell  in  a  peaceable  habitation,  and  in  sure  dwellings, 
and  in  quiet  resting-places ;  and  be  filled  with  that 
abundant  and  everlasting  peace,  which  passeth  all  un- 
derstanding. 


SERMON  XXII. 


THE  REWARDS  OF  THE  CONQUERING 
CHRISTIAN. 


REVELATION  11.   17. 

To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  give  to  cat  of  the  hiddeii  manna,  and 
will  give  him  a  white  stone,  and  in  the  stone  a  new  name  written, 
which  no  man  knoweth,  saving  he  that  receiveth  it. 


A  HIS  is  one  of  those  encouraging  promises,  which  were 
given  by  our  ascended  Lord  to  the  persecuted  churchea 
of  Asia.  But  the  blessings  of  which  it  speaks,  must 
not  be  confined  to  those  primitive  saints.  At  this  very 
hour  they  are  possessed  and  enjoyed  by  many  an  hum- 
ble follower  of  Christ,  and  there  is  not  a  penitent  sinner 
breathing  on  the  earth,  who  may  not  seek  and  obtain 
them.  He  then  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear  what  the 
Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches  ;  and  may  that  glorified 
Saviour,  who  has  sent  us  this  gracious  message  from 
heaven,  give  us  a  heart  to  receive  it  with  reverence, 
and  to  embrace  the  mercies  it  offers  us  with  gratitude 
and  joy  ! 

In  proceeding  to  apply  these  condescending  words 
to  ourselves,  we  may  consider,  Jirst,  the  description 
they  give  us  of  the  person  to  whom  they  are  addressed  j 
and,  secondly.,  the  blessings  they  promise  him. 

I.  1.  The  text  is  addressed  to  'Miim  that  overcometh." 
Now  the  man,  to  whom  this  description  can  be  applied, 
is  obviously  one  who  knows  that  he  has  spiritual  ene- 
mies assailing  him.    He  has  discovered  that  he  has  in- 

X  X 


346  The  Rewards  of 

terests  at  stake,  which  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  tlie  devil 
unite  in  opposing;  that  he  has  objects  to  attain,  which 
he  cannot  accomplish  without  exposing  himself  to  their 
attacks,  and  overcoming  their  influence  ;  that  if  he 
would  be  holy  in  this  world,  and  happy  in  the  world 
which  is  to  come,  he  must  be  prepared  to  make  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life  one  continued  scene  of  watchfulness 
and  warfare. 

There  are  very  few  among  us,  brethren,  who  are 
really  come  to  such  a  conviction  as  this.  We  hear  of 
spiritual  enemies,  and  we  profess  to  give  their  existence 
n  place  in  our  creed ;  but  the  greater  part  of  us  are  not 
conscious  of  being  continually  subject  to  their  assaults. 
We  have  lived  in  the  world,  and  mixed  perhaps  with- 
out hesitation  in  its  pursuits  and  its  pleasures ;  but  we 
have  not  found  either  the  one  or  the  other  injurious  to 
the  concerns  of  eternity,  or  hindering  us  in  the  least  in 
our  journey  to  heaven.  Neither  have  we  been  mate- 
rially harassed  by  the  lusts  of  the  flesh.  It  is  true  that 
we  have  often  cherished  thoughts  and  desires,  which 
we  should  have  blushed  for  even  a  child  to  have  known ; 
but  then  we  have  ascribed  these  secret  workings  of  our 
mind,  to  the  frailty  of  our  nature,  and  they  have  never 
drawn  one  tear  from  our  eyes,  nor  given  one  pang  to 
our  hearts.  As  for  the  influence  of  Satan,  we  have 
neither  dreaded  nor  felt  it,  and  we  hesitate  not  to  rank 
it  among  the  reveries  of  enthusiasm,  or  the  imaginary 
terrors  of  superstition.  It  is  plain  then  that  as  long  as 
these  are  our  opinions  and  feelings,  wt  cannot  be  the 
persons  addressed  in  the  text.  We  have  not  so  much 
as  beheld  an  enemy,  and  can  have  no  pretensions  to  liir 
the  rewards  of  him,  who  has  fought  and  overcome. 

2.  But  the  idea  of  a  victory  nepessarily  presupposes 
a  contest.     The  language  before  us  must  imply  there- 


the  Conquering  Christian.  347 

fore,  that  the  man,  to  whom  these  blessings  are  pro- 
mised, is  contend'mg  with  the  enemies,  by  whom  he  sees 
himself  surrounded.  It  describes  the  Cnristian,  not  as 
the  friend  of  the  world,  but  the  determined  opposer  of 
its  corrupt  maxims  and  customs ;  not  as  the  obedient 
slave  of  the  prince  of  darkness,  but  his  decided  and 
vigilant  foe.  It  intimates  also  that  there  is  a  warfare 
going  on  within  the  man's  own  breast ;  and  what  war- 
.  fare  can  be  compared  with  that,  which  the  Christian  is 
secretly  carrying  on  there  ?  When  Satan  and  the  world 
trouble  him,  they  are  opposed  and  silenced ;  but  his 
own  heart,  though  it  may  seem  subdued  one  hour, 
makes  him  weep  and  tremble  the  next.  Here  the  flesh 
is  ever  lusting  against  the  Spirit,  and  the  Spirit  against 
the  flesh  ;  here  the  law  of  sin  wars  against  the  law  of 
grace ;  here  heavenly  and  holy  affections  contend  with 
earthly  and  sensual  desires.  Here  an  unceasing  and 
painful  battle  is  fought,  and  here  the  victory  and  the 
crown  are  w^on. 

It  is  this  habitual  conflict  with  evil,  which  constitutes 
the  great  diflference  between  the  servant  of  God,  and  the 
man  of  the  world.  The  one  is  at  peace  with  sin  and 
willingly  yields  to  its  dominion,  while  the  other  no 
sooner  feels  himself  tied  and  bound  in  its  chains,  than 
he  begins  to  strive  against  it,  and  to  struggle  for  free- 
dom. It  is  this,  which  proves  us  to  be  sincere  and 
earnest  in  our  religious  profession.  It  is  this,  which 
testifies  that  our  understandings  are  enlightened,  that 
our  conscience  is  on  the  side  of  God,  that  our  affec- 
tions have  been  touched  by  his  grace,  and  a  principle 
t>f  a  new  and  spiritual  life  sent  down  from  heaven  into 
our  hearts. 

3.  But  we  must  not  stop  here.  The  text  leads  us  to 
infer,  thirdly,  that  the  Christian  is  actually  overcoming 


348  The  Rewards  of 

the  enemies  of  his  soul.  And  this  is  an  inference,  bre- 
thren, which  cannot  be  too  plainly  and  earnestly  pressed 
on  our  notice.  The  truth  it  involves  is  of  the  very 
highest  importance  to  our  eternal  interests;  and  yet 
there  is  no  truth,  which  we  seem  so  determined  to  for- 
get and  so  anxious  to  discredit.  Whence  arise  the 
many  strange  and  unscriptural  notions  of  religion, 
which  prevail  among  us?  and  to  what  cause  must  we 
ascribe  the  multiplied  errors,  which  in  every  age  have 
deceived  and  harassed  the  Christian  church  ?  Is  the 
gospel  so  hard  to  be  understood,  or  the  book  which 
contains  its  glad  tidings  so  vague  and  obscure  ?  No. 
Our  spiritual  ignorance  must  be  traced  chiefly  to  our 
spiritual  wickedness.  We  have  cherished  cavils  and 
doubts,  we  have  applauded  the  wildest  and  most  con- 
tradictory tenets  ;  and  why  ?  Because  they  have  super- 
seded the  necessity  of  practical  holiness,  or  tended  to 
lower  its  standard  ;  because  they  have  taught  us  that  a 
man  may  be  the  slave  of  his  lusts,  and  yet  the  friend  of 
his  God ;  that  we  may  take  our  share  of  the  follies  and 
sins  of  this  world,  and  yet  when  we  die  enter  into  all 
the  purity  and  joys  of  the  next.  But  how  plainly  does 
the  text  we  are  considering  condemn  such  notions  as 
these  !  It  speaks  of  religion  as  an  arduous  conflict,  and 
it  promises  its  blessings  to  none  but  a  conqueror.  To 
be  contending  with  our  spiritual  enemies  is  not  enough. 
It  tells  us  that  we  must  be  overcoming,  as  well  as  re- 
sisting them  ;  triumphing  over  evil,  as  well  as  opposing 
and  hating  it.  Not  that  the  foes  of  our  peace  can  ever 
be  destroyed,  or  that  we  on  this  side  the  grave  can  be 
exempt  from  their  assaults.  Through  all  the  changing 
scenes  of  our  life  they  will  follow  us,  and  even  on  our 
dying  bed  they  will  strive  to  harm  us.  But  though 
pursued  and  harassed,  the  Christian  is  day  by  day  beat- 


the  Conquering  Christian.  349 

ing  down  his  enemies.  The  world  is  gradually  losing 
its  power  to  tempt  and  disturb  him  ;  Satan  is  bruised 
underneath  his  feet ;  and  as  for  his  lusts,  they  are  one 
by  one  weakened  and  subdued.  He  may  not  indeed  be 
always  conscious  of  the  progress  he  is  making  in  holi- 
ness ;  he  may  often  be  found  weeping  over  his  defeats, 
instead  of  rejoicing^  in  his  triumphs ;  yea,  there  may  be 
seasons,  in  which  he  may  deem  himself  an  utter  stranger 
to  the  spiritual  warfare ;  but  the  victories  he  is  obtain- 
ing, though  hidden  from  himself,  are  visible  to  others. 
Angels  see  them  and  rejoice.  His  Christian  brethren 
behold  them,  and  pray  for  the  grace,  which  has  enabled 
him  to  win  them.  In  the  midst  of  his  many  infirmities, 
and  fears,  and  occasional  declensions,  he  is  seen  to  be 
perfecting  holiness  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  ;  becoming- 
more  humble,  more  submissive,  more  earnest,  more 
spiritually-minded ;  longing  more  for  heaven,  and  grow- 
ing in  a  meetness  for  its  pure  and  exalted  joys. 

O  what  a  blessed  victory  is  this !  Who  docs  not  long 
to  share  in  its  honours  and  receive  its  rewards  ?  But 
these  rewards  are  not  easily  attained,  neither  is  this 
victory  easily  won.  No  mortal  power  can  achieve  it. 
We  may  form  the  most  sincere  and  stedfast  resolutions, 
and  prepare  for  the  most  vigorous  efforts  ;  but  the  first 
assaults  of  temptation  will  discover  to  us  that  we  have 
entered  on  an  unequal  contest,  and  leave  us  wondering  at 
our  own  weakness.  Even  if  the  world  and  the  devil  had 
ceased  to  be  our  enemies,  we  are  no  more  able  to  over- 
come the  rebellious  passions  of  our  own  hearts,  than 
we  are  to  bind  in  chains  the  waves  of  a  raging  ocean. 
The  mere  professor  of  religion  may  cavil  at  this  state- 
ment ;  but  he,  who  is  actually  striving  to  subdue  his 
lusts,  will  soon  be  constrained  to  admit  its  truth.  He 
ivill  soon  be  heard  to  confess  that  he  can  do  nothiners 


350  The  Rewards  of 

that  he  is  absolutely  helpless,  and  must  either  give  up 
the  conflict  in  despair,  or  seek  the  aid  of  an  arm  stronger 
than  his  own.  The  victory  must  be  ascribed  to  God 
alone.  It  is  he,  who  gives  us  at  first  a  disposition  to 
struggle  with  our  adversaries  j  it  is  he,  who  crowns  that 
struggle  with  success.  "  Not  unto  us,"  has  ever  been 
the  language  of  the  Church  in  its  warfare,  "  not  unto 
us,  O  Lord,  but  unto  thy  name  be  the  praise;"  and 
its  language  in  the  day  of  its  triumph  is  the  same ; 
**  Salvation  to  our  God,  which  sitteth  upon  the  throne, 
and  unto  the  Lamb." 

IL  But  though  the  victory  be  the  Lord's,  he  often 
condescends  to  speak  of  it  as  though  it  were  attained  by 
the  Christian  himself;  and  to  strengthen  his  arm  and 
stimulate  his  exertions,  he  promises  him  in  the  text,  a 
gracious  and  rich  reward.  "  To  him  that  overcometh 
will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  hidden  manna;  and  1  will  give 
him  a  white  stone,  and  in  the  stone  a  new  name  written, 
which  no  man  knoweth,  saving  he  that  receiveth  it." 

1.  One  of  the  blessings  comprehended  in  this  pro- 
mise is  pardon.  Does  the  Christian  conqueror  then 
need  pardon?  Yes,  brethren,  as  much  as  the  most 
guilty  of  his  race  can  need  it.  In  the  midst  of  all  the 
honours,  which  the  Captain  of  his  salvation  puts  on 
him,  and  all  the  trials,  which  he  endures  for  his  sake, 
he  feels  that  he  is  an  unworthy  sinner  still,  and  is  con- 
strained to  be  continually  mourning  over  his  sinfulness, 
and  supplicating  forgiveness  at  the  footstool  of  his 
throne.  The  text  addresses  him  as  a  sinner.  "  To  him 
that  overcometh  will  1  give  a  white  stone." 

In  this  expression,  there  is  evidently  an  allusion  to 
the  custom,  which  prevailed  in  the  ancient  courts  of 
justice,  of  declaring  the  acquittal  or  condemnation  of  a 
criminal  by  delivering  to  him  or  one  of  his  judges,  a 


the  Conquering  Christian.  351 

stone.  If  acquitted  he  received  a  white,  if  condemned 
a  black,  stone.  Here  a  white  stone  is  promised  to  the 
overcoming  behever  ;  and  no  figure  can  more  clearly 
express  that  complete  absolution  from  guilt,  which  is 
conferred  on  the  contrite  sinner,  as  soon  as  he  applies 
by  faith  to  the  Saviour  of  sinners.  The  God,  who 
created  him,  gave  him  a  law,  and  he  has  a  thousand 
times  daringly  broken  it.  He  consequently  stands  at 
his  bar  as  a  base  and  heinous  transgressor.  The  black 
stone  of  condemnation  is  about  to  be  given  him,  and 
the  dreadful  sentence  of  the  violated  law  to  be  pro- 
nounced by  his  judge.  But  no  curse  proceeds  from  the 
awful  throne  before  him.  One  wearing  his  form  and 
clothed  in  all  the  glories  of  the  Godhead,  becomes  his 
advocate  and  pleads  his  cause.  "  I,"  says  the  glorified 
Jesus,  "  am  that  trembling  sinner's  friend.  He  has  fled 
to  my  cross  for  refuge,  and  sooner  shall  heaven  and 
earth  fail,  than  a  sinner  shall  perish  there.  There  was 
indeed  a  time,  when  he  made  me  to  serve  with  his  sins 
and  wearied  me  with  his  iniquities ;  but  the  vengeance 
which  he  merited  was  poured  out  on  mine  own  head, 
and  there  is  now  no  condemnation  remaining  for  him. 
Behold  my  hands  and  my  side.  In  this  body,  I  was 
wounded  for  his  transgressions,  and  bruised  for  his  ini- 
quities.  I  ransomed  and  bought  him  with  my  blood  ; 
and  though  my  enemies  may  blaspheme,  and  my  friends 
may  wonder,  I  will  give  him  a  white  stone,  a  free  and 
full  discharge." 

And  is  not  this  a  great,  and  unspeakably  precious 
blessing,  to  have  our  guilt  cancelled  ?  to  have  those 
manifold  iniquities,  which  are  so  often  filling  our  hearts 
with  fear  and  sadness,  all  pardoned  and  forgotten  ?  to 
be  in  no  more  danger  of  the  fearful  sentence  we  have 
incurred,  than  as  though  we  had  never  been  defiled  b}- 


35S        '  The  Hewards  of 

one  transgression  ?  Who,  that  has  felt  the  anguish  of  a 
guilty  conscience,  will  not  say  with  the  pardoned  psal- 
mist, *'  Blessed  is  he,  whose  iniquities  are  forgiven,  and 
whose  sin  is  covered.  Blessed  is  the  man,  unto  whom 
the  Lord  imputeth  not  iniquity." 

2.  If  pardon  then  were  all  that  the  Christian  con- 
queror received  from  his  Lord,  we  might  still  say  that 
never  conqueror  was  so  richly  rewarded  as  he ;  but 
pardon  is  not  all.  A  mere  acquittal  is  too  poor  a  gift 
for  the  Captain  of  his  salvation  to  bestow,  and  he  adds 
to  it  the  blessing  of  adoption.  ^'  To  him  that  over- 
cometh  will  I  give  a  white  stone,  and  on  the  stone  a 
new  name  written." 

And  what  is  this  new  name  ?  Here  again  we  must 
refer  to  the  customs  of  the  ILast.  When  a  prince  raised 
any  of  his  subjects  to  extraordinary  dignity,  or  adopted 
them  into  his  family,  it  was  usual  to  give  them  a  new 
name,  expressive  of  their  elevation  and  their  connexion 
with  their  benefactor.  Thus  Pharaoh  changed  the  name 
of  Joseph,  when  he  raised  him  to  honour ;  and  thus  also 
the  three  Hebrew  youths  were  called  by  new  names, 
when  they  were  received  into  the  house  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar. When  therefore  the  exalted  Jesus  promises  to 
his  triumphant  people  a  new  name,  he  promises  them 
all  the  blessings  of  his  Father's  house,  all  the  happiness 
and  the  glory,  which  are  the  portion  of  the  sons  of  God. 
When  he  first  began  to  look  on  them  in  mercy,  he 
found  them  the  members  of  another  flmiily,  and  the 
children  of  another  parent.  In  love  with  folly  and  with 
sin,  they  had  wandered  far  from  God,  and  had  joined 
themselves  to  a  family,  of  which  the  prince  of  darkness 
is  the  head.  But  he  determined  to  bring  back  the 
wretched  prodigals  to  their  forsaken  home.  With  his 
own  blood  he  reconciled  them,  even  while  they  were 


the  Conquering  Christian.  353 

yet  enemies  to  his  Father ;  by  his  obedience  unto  death, 
he  wrought  out  for  them  a  righteousness,  which  gives 
them  a  name  and  a  place  among  his  children ;  and  by 
his  Spirit  he  renews  their  souls,  restores  them  to  his 
forfeited  image,  and  makes  them  meet  for  the  employ- 
ments and  joys  of  their  heavenly  habitation.  "  As  many 
as  receive  him,"  says  Saint  John,  '*  to  them  hath  he 
given  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to  them 
that  believe  in  his  name."  Yea,  so  anxious  is  he  to  re- 
veal to  them  the  honour,  to  which  he  has  raised  them, 
and  to  gladden  their  hearts  with  a  prospect  of  its  hap- 
piness, that  he  sends  down  the  Spirit  itself  from  heaven, 
to  bear  witness  with  their  spirit  that  they  are  the  chil- 
dren of  God  ;  and  if  children,  then  heirs,  heirs  of  God 
and  joint  heirs  with  Christ. 

The  manner,  in  which  this  new  name  is  given  to  the 
acquitted  criminal,  is  also  remarkable*  It  is  written  or 
engraven  in  the  stone,  which  declares  his  pardon,  and 
is  consequently  inseparable  from  it.  The  inference  is 
obvious.  Adoption  into  the  family  of  heaven,  is  inse- 
parably connected  with  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  As  soon 
as  the  penitent  sinner  is  justified  by  faith,  he  has  peace 
with  God,  and  from  that  hour  is  regarded  by -him  as 
his  beloved  child.  He  may  not  indeed  have  immediate 
evidence  of  his  adoption ;  fearfulness  and* distrust  may 
for  a  season  weigh  him  down  ;  yea,  he  may  sometimes 
mourn  over  himself  as  an  unpardoned  heir  of  wrath  ', 
but  notwithstanding  his  fears  and  doubts,  his  fetters 
have  been  broken.  Satan  has  lost  a  servant,  whom  he 
never  will  regain.  He  is  no  more  a  stranger  or  foreigner, 
but  a  fellow  citizen  with  the  saints,  and  the  household 
of  God.  The  angels  rejoice  over  him  as  a  monument 
of  infinite  mercy,  and  a  future  partaker  of  their  bliss. 
The  gloriiied  Jesus  regards  him  with  a  love,  that  passeth 

Yy 


354  ne  Rewards  of 

knowledge.  God  himself  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called 
his  God,  and  prepares  for  his  long-lost  but  now  reco- 
vered son,  a  never-ending  feast  of  joy. 

3.  Hence  spiritual  provision  is  another  blessing  com- 
prehended in  this  promise.  "  To  him  that  overcometh 
will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  hidden  manna."  By  a  reference 
to  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  the  book  of  Exodus,  we 
find  Moses  commanding  Aaron  to  fill  a  vessel  with  the 
manna,  which  the  Israelites  had  received  from  heaven, 
and  to  lay  it  up  in  the  tabernacle,  as  a  memorial  to  suc- 
ceeding generations  of  the  power  and  goodness,  which 
had  fed  their  fathers  for  forty  years  in  a  wilderness. 
The  manna  was  accordingly  placed  in  the  ark  of  the 
covenant  in  the  most  holy  place,  where  it  remained 
hidden  or  secret,  as  none  but  the  High-Priest  could 
ever  look  on  it,  and  he  once  only  in  the  year.  To  this 
hidden  manna  the  words  before  us  undoubtedly  allude  ; 
and  the  blessing  intimated  by  it  is  that  spiritual  provi- 
sion, with  which  the  bountiful  Jesus  feeds,  and 
strengthens,  and  blesses  his  adopted  sons.  To  eat  of 
it,  is  to  have  the  soul  nourished  and  refreshed  with  the 
bread  of  life  ;  to  have  all  its  wants  supplied ;  to  taste  of 
those  divine  consolations,  which  even  in  this  world  of 
trouble  can  make  the  sinner's  heart  overflow  with  bless- 
edness ;  to  live  upon  the  fulness  of  an  infinite  God,  and 
to  be  abundantly  satisfied  therewith.  Nay  more  ;  to  eat 
of  this  hidden  manna,  is  to  partake  of  the  bread  of 
heaven ;  to  be  admitted,  when  the  wilderness  of  life  is 
passed,  into  the  immediate  presence  of  Jehovah ;  to 
dwell  before  his  throne  in  the  holy  place  of  his  heavenly 
temple  ;  to  hunger  no  more,  and  to  thirst  no  more ;  but 
to  have  the  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne, 
to  feed  us,  and  to  lead  us  unto  living  fountains  of  water, 
and  to  wipe  away  all  tears  from  our  eyes. 


the  Conquering  Christian.  355 

The  manna,  of  which  the  Christian  is  permitted  to 
eat,  is  said  to  be  hidden  manna;  and  the  new  name, 
which  is  given  to  him,  is  a  secret  name,  a  name  which 
no  man  knoweth,  saving  he  that  receiveth  it.  Now  this 
language  implies,  that  the  blessings  of  adoption  and 
spiritual  consolation  can  be  comprehended  by  those 
only,  who  have  been  made  partakers  of  them.  No  other 
man  can  have  any  adequate  conception  of  their  sweet- 
ness or  their  value  ;  for  he  has  not  a  taste  adapted  to 
them,  nor  an  understanding  capable  of  estimating  their 
worth.  He  is  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  and  can  know 
nothing  of  the  spiritual  life  of  those,  who  are  born  from 
above.  Their  life  is  hid  from  an  ungodly  world  with 
Christ  in  God.  A  stranger  intermeddles  not  with  their 
joy.  "  The  secret  of  the  Lord,"  says  the  psalmist,  "  is 
with  them  that  fear  him,  and  he  will  show  them  his 
covenant."  "  Now  we  have  received,"  says  the  apostle, 
"  not  the  spirit  of  the  world,  but  the  spirit  which  is  of 
God ;  that  we  might  know  the  things  that  are  freely- 
given  to  us  of  God.  But  the  natural  man  receiveth  not 
the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for  they  are  foolishness 
unto  him ;  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they  are 
spiritually  discerned." 

And  now,  brethren,  let  us  turn  to  ourselves.  We 
have  heard  of  the  blessings  offered  by  our  ascended 
Lord  to  the  sinners  of  mankind,  and  we  have  the  cha- 
racter of  those,  who  are  inheriting  these  blessings, 
plainly  marked  out  to  us.  Is  it  our  character  ?  Can  we 
trace  in  it  a  resemblance  to  our  own  feelings  and  con- 
duct? Are  we  striving  against  our  spiritual  adversa- 
ries ?  Are  we  overcoming  sin  ?  Has  the  world  lost  its 
power  to  entice  and  govern  us  ?  Is  Satan  vanquished? 
Are  our  neighbours,  are  the  inmates  of  our  habitations 
ready  to  testify  of  us,  that  there  is  a  reality  in  our  reli- 


356  The  Rewards  of 

gion,  a  consistency  in  our  character,  an  increasing  holi- 
ness in  our  dispositions  and  conduct  ?  Then,  brethren, 
the  promise  before  us  ought  to  be  to  us  as  hfe  from  the 
dead.  Its  sound  ought  to  chase  away  our  fears,  to  ani- 
mate our  courage,  to  fill  our  souls  with  love,  to  put  a 
new  song  in  our  mouth,  even  a  thanksgiving  unto  our 
God.    In  every  season  of  despondency,  let  us  think  of 
it,  and  be  comforted.    It  was  written  to  comfort  us  in 
our  warfare  ;  and  why  should  we  refuse  to  take  the 
cup  of  consolation,  which  a  tender-hearted  Father  has 
put  into  our  hands?  In  every  season  of  coldness,  let  us 
remember  it,   and  strive  to  warm  our  hearts  to  grati- 
tude and  praise.     It  tells  us  of  guilt  cancelled,  of  hell 
escaped,  of  God  reconciled,  of  heaven  won  ;  and  where 
is  the  perishing  sinner  who  can  think  of  such  blessings 
as  these,  and  not  be  constrained  to  feel  and  to  love  ? 
The  criminal,  condemned  to  die,  would  think  that  he 
could  never  sufficiently  testify  his  gratitude  to  the  man, 
who  should  obtain  for  him  a  reprieve.     And  shall  that 
friend  be  forgotten,  who  delivered  us,  even  while  we 
were  yet  his  enemies,  from  the  wrath  to  come,  by  lay- 
ing down  his  life  in  our  stead  ?  How  would  the  starving 
and  houseless  beggar  thank  the  benefactor,  who  should 
receive  him  into  his  flimily,  and  give  him  food  and 
raiment  among  his  children  !   And  shall  we  be  cold  and 
thankless   towards   that  exalted  Being,   who  stooped 
down  from  his  throne  when  he  saw  us  perishing,  and 
lifted  us  up  from  the  dust,  and  made  us  the  children 
of  God,  and  the  heirs  of  his  glory  ?  No,  brethren  ;  the 
reprieved  criminal  may  be  joyless,  the  adopted  beggar 
may  be  thankless  ;  but  the  pardoned  sinner  must  go  on 
his  way  rejoicing,  and  make  even  a  life  of  wrestling  a 
life  of  praise. 

There  is  also  another  class  of  persons,  whom  the 


the  Conquering  Christian,  357 

gracious  words  before  us  were  designed  to  cheer.  You 
have  reason  to  hope,  perhaps,  that  you  are  not  altoge- 
ther strangers  to  true  religion.  Your  principles,  your 
feelings,  your  conduct,  have  undergone  a  great  change. 
You  are  anxiously  seeking  to  win  Christ,  and  to  be 
found  in  him.  As  you  hear  of  the  blessings  promised 
to  the  conquering  Christian,  you  feel  them  to  be  the 
very  blessings  that  you  need,  and  would  think  them 
cheaply  purchased  by  a  whole  life  of  conflict  and  trial : 
yea,  you  would  rejoice  to  part,  not  only  with  every  sin, 
but  with  every  earthly  comfort  that  is  dear  to  you,  and 
welcome  the  deepest  poverty  and  tribulation,  so  that 
you  might  inherit  these  precious  promises.  But  you 
dare  not  hope  that  you  have  any  interest  in  them. 
Though  struggling  with  your  enemies,  and  praying, 
and  striving,  and  longing  for  a  victory  over  them,  you  • 
have  not  yet  vanquished  them,  and  you  deem  it  pre- 
sumption to  claim  a  conqueror's  rewards.  The  human 
heart  is  exceedingly  deceitful,  brethren,  and  its  deepest 
emotions  must  be  regarded  with  suspicion  ;  but  if  these 
are  the  sincere  feelings  of  your  heart,  and  if  they  are 
habitually  influencing  your  life,  making  you  humble, 
watchful,  prayerful,  there  is  not  a  blessing  in  this  pro- 
mise of  your  Lord,  nay,  there  is  not  a  blessing  spoken 
of  in  the  Scriptures,  which  you  are  not  warranted  to 
rejoice  in  as  your  own.  You  may  weep  and  tremble  ; 
there  may  be  fightings  without,  and  fears  within ;  but 
the  white  stone,  the  new  name,  the  hidden  manna,  are 
already  yours.  The  promise  is  made,  not  to  him  that 
has  overcome,  but  to  him  that  is  overcoming ;  not  to 
him  who  has  completely  gained  the  victory,  but  to  him 
who  is  gaining  it,  whose  enemies  are  not  destroyed,  but 
weakened  and  gradually  yielding.  If  you  are  thus 
warring  a  good  warfare,  the  promise  is  made  to  you  ; 


358  The  Rewards  of 

and  though  you  deem  yourselves  condemned  and 
perishing,  the  God,  before  whom  you  tremble,  regards 
you  as  his  pardoned  and  adopted  children,  and  will 
1  soon  give  you,  belorc  an  assembled  universe,  a  victor's 
crown.  Ignorance  and  unbelief  may  rob  you  for  a  sea- 
son of  your  comfort ;  but  continue  humbly  and  reso- 
lutely fighting  the  good  fight  of  faith,  persevere  in 
watchfulness  and  prayer,  let  a  sense  of  your  own  utter 
weakness,  keep  you  still  flying  for  help  to  your  almighty 
Saviour,  and  after  a  few  more  years  of  conflict  and  trou- 
ble are  passed,  your  warfare  shall  end  in  the  shouts  of 
triumph,  and  your  tears  shall  be  turned  into  songs  of 
everlasting  joy.  Think  not  that  these  assurances  are 
more  encouraging  than  the  Scriptures  warrant.  They 
are  the  very  assurances  we  are  commanded  to  give  you. 
*'  Strengthen  ye  the  feeble  hands,"  said  the  Lord  lo  his 
prophet,  "and  confirm  the  feeble  knees;  say  to  them 
that  are  of  a  feeble  heart,  *  Be  strong,  fear  not ;  behold 
your  God  will  come  with  vengeance,  even  God  with  a 
recompense  ;  he  will  come  and  save  you.'  Comfort  ye, 
comfort  ye  my  people,  saith  your  God.  Speak  ye  com- 
fortably to  Jerusalem,  and  cry  unto  her,  that  her  war- 
fare is  accomplished,  that  her  iniquity  is  pardoned ; 
for  she  hath  received  of  the  Lord's  hand  double  for  all 
her  sins." 

But  the  language  of  the  text  is  calculated  to  excite 
enquiry,  as  well  as  to  impart  consolation.  It  speaks  of 
blessings,  and  it  ofliers  them  freely  to  the  unworthy  and 
the  guilty,  but  then  it  tells  us  that  none  but  the  warring 
and  overcoming  will  receive  them.  What  then  is  your 
religion?  Is  it  a  conflict?  a  wresding?  an  incomplete, 
but  a  visible  and  progressive  victory  ?  If  it  is  not  a 
warfare,  brethren,  it  is  nothing.  It  is  a  profession,  a 
name,   and  nothing  more ;  a  form,  which  is  no  more 


the  Conquering  Christian.  359 

like  the  religion  that  saves  the  soul,  than  a  statue  is 
like  a  living  man.  Your  disposition  may  be  peaceable, 
and  even  amiable ;  you  may  be  as  blameless  in  your 
outward  conduct,  as  the  unconverted  Saul,  and  as  warm 
in  your  zeal ;  you  may  hear  the  sound  of  the  gospel, 
and  approve  and  defend  its  peculiar  doctrines  ;  it  may 
even  play  about  your  imagination,  and  at  seasons  reach 
your  heart ;  but  if  you  are  not  habitually  withstanding 
and  overcoming  the  corruptions  that  are  in  the  world, 
if  there  is  no  struggle  with  sin  going  on  within  your 
breast,  if  Satan  is  not  feared  and  resisted,  you  have  no 
more  part  nor  lot  in  the  salvation  of  Jesus,  than  the  man 
who  has  never  heard  of  his  name.  Your  sins  are  un- 
pardoned, your  sentence  of  death  unrepealed,  your  soul 
perishing.  Where  there  is  no  conflict,  there  can  be  no 
victory.  Where  there  is  no  victory,  there  will  be  no 
white  stone  of  absolution,  no  new  name,  no  hidden 
manna,  no  crown. 


SERMON  XXIIL 


THE  ISRAELITES  RETURNING  FROM 
BABYLON. 


JEREMIAH  L  4,  5. 

In  those  daijs  and  in  that  time,  aaith  the  Lord,  the  children  of  I&racl 
shall  come,  they  and  the  children  of  Judah  together,  g'^^^^S  "^'^  ii>ee/!~ 
ing :  they  siiall  go  and  seek  the  Lord  their  God.  They  shall  ask  the 
way  to  Zion  wifh  their  faces  thither-ward,  saying,  "  Come,  end  let  us 
Join  ourselves  to  the  Lord  in  a  /ici-peiual  covcnaJit,  that  shall  not  be 
forgotten." 


1  HESE  words  may  be  considered  as  a  prophecy  of 
the  future  conversion  and  restoration  of  the  Jews ;  but 
this  was  not  tlieir  primary  meaning.  They  are  con- 
nected with  a  striking  prediction  of  the  overthrow  of 
the  Chaldean  empire,  and  evidently  relate  to  the  libera- 
tion of  the  Israelites  from  their  long  captivity  in  Baby- 
lon, and  their  consequent  return  to  their  own  land. 
They  however  are  not  the  only  people,  who  have  been 
enslaved  by  enemies.  We  ourselves  are  in  a  state  of 
still  more  wretched  bondage,  and  may  learn  from  the 
contemplation  of  their  captivity  and  deliverance,  a  use- 
ful lesson  of  humiliation  and  of  hope. 

Adapting  the  subject  before  us  to  our  own  spiritual 
situation  and  circumstances,  let  us  consider,  Jirsty  the 
state  of  the  Jews  in  Babylon  ;  secondly^  their  deliverance 
from  it;  and,  thirdlij^  the  feelings,  with  which  they  be- 
gan their  return  to  the  land  of  their  fathers. 

\.  1.  The  captive  Israelites  were  obviously  in  a  de- 


The  Israelites  Retiirnwg^  ^c.  361 

graded  state.  They  were  once  a  great  and  free  peo- 
ple, secure  under  the  special  protection  of  God,  and 
honoured  by  his  pecuHar  favour.  They  are  now  stran- 
gers in  a  foreign  country,  obeying  the  will  of  their  proud 
conquerors,  and  visited  with  the  judgments  of  heaven. 
And  what  is  the  state  of  man,  but  a  state  of  degrada- 
tion ?  He  boasts  of  the  dignity  of  his  nature,  but  an 
angel  might  weep  over  its  baseness.  He  is  prouder  than 
the  inhabitants  of  heaven,  but  he  has  brought  himself 
almost  to  a  level  with  the  brutes  that  perish.  The 
image  of  God,  in  which  he  was  created,  has  been  de- 
faced, his  friendship  forfeited,  his  favour  lost.  The 
soul,  that  once  ruled  over  the  body  in  which  it  dwelt, 
is  now  become  its  slave,  held  in  captivity  by  its  lusts^ 
tyrannized  over  by  the  most  vile  and  hateful  dispositions, 
lost  to  all  sense  of  its  own  original  excellence,  and  sunk 
so  low  as  even  to  love  its  degradation. 

2.  But  the  condition  of  the  Jews  in  their  captivity  , 
was  as  wretched^  as  it  was  degrading.  Though  treated 
by  their  conquerors  with  more  than  usual  lenity,  they 
appear  to  have  been  reduced  to  the  lowest  state  of  de- 
spondency. At  a  distance  from  Jerusalem,  their  beloved 
temple  destroyed,  their  holy  convocations  and  solemn 
sacrifices  passed  away,  they  sit  down  by  the  waters  of 
Babylon  and  weep.  Their  harps,  which  in  Zion  had 
ever  been  attuned  to  joy,  are  now  hung  upon  the  wil- 
lows; and  their  songs  are  turned  into  bitter  lamentations. 
We  too  are  a  suffering,  as  well  as  an  abased  people. 
Once  indeed  the  world  was  a  paradise,  but  sin  has  en- 
tered it,  withered  all  its  bloom,  and  robbed  it  of  its 
happiness.  Thorns  and  briars,  toil  and  care,  pain  and 
sorrow,  have  completely  overspread  it,  so  that  there  is 
not  a  spot  on  its  surface,  on  which  we  can  set  our  foot 
and  say,  "  Here  is  rest."    On  every  condition  of  man, 

Z  z 


36)3  The  Israelites 

on  every  nation,  yea,  on  every  family,  have  been  written, 
in  characters  more  or  less  legible,  "  Lamentation, 
mourning,  and  woe."  And  what  is  to  follow  the  years 
of  misery,  which  wc  are  spending  here  ?  The  agonies 
of  death,  and  the  darkness  of  the  grave. 

3.  Our  state  also,  like  that  of  the  captive  Jews,  is  a 
guilty  state.  It  was  sin,  which  caused  them  to  be  de- 
livered into  the  hands  of  their  enemies  ;  and  it  is  sin, 
which  has  made  us  base  and  wretched.  Our  first  father 
transgressed  and  died  ;  but  the  vengeance,  which  fol- 
lowed his  transgression,  deterred  not  his  children  from 
treading  in  his  steps.  They  inherited  his  depraved  na- 
ture, and  they  have  obe3'ed  its  lusts.  Since  the  hour, 
in  which  the  prince  of  darkness  first  erected  his  throne 
in  the  world,  it  has  been  his  kingdom,  and  its  inhabi- 
tants have  willingly  obeyed  his  dreadful  laws.  We  our- 
selves have  shared  in  the  common  guilt.  We  cannot 
look  into  our  own  bosoms,  nor  examine  the  history  of 
our  own  lives,  without  finding  there  the  most  distress- 
ing reasons  to  mourn  over  ourselves,  as  rebels  who 
have  revolted  from  the  most  gracious  of  sovereigns, 
and  as  children  who  are  daily  sinning  against  the  most 
tender  of  fathers.  To  say  nothing  of  the  follies  of  our 
childhood  and  the  sins  of  our  youth,  how  many  iniqui- 
ties have  we  willingly  and  daringly  committed,  since 
we  attained  the  age  of  manhood  !  How  many  words 
have  we  uttered,  which  ought  never  to  have  passed  our 
lips  !  How  many  thoughts  have  v/e  indulged,  which 
we  should  shudder  to  make  known !  How  many  evil 
dispositions  have  we  cherished  !  How  many  afflictions 
have  we  despised !  And  how  many  mercies  have  we 
slighted !  Yea,  brethren,  which  of  us  can  look  back 
even  on  the  week,  that  has  just  passed  over  our  heads, 
and  not  find  in  the  retrospect  abundant  and  irresistable 


Returning  from  Babylon.  363 

evidence  of  our  apostacy  from  God  ?  Which  of  us  is 
not  constrained  to  cry  out,  "  Enter  not  into  judgment 
with  thy  servant,  O  Lord,  for  in  thy  sight  shall  no  man 
living  be  justified  ? 

4.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  enslaved  Jews  were  in  a 
helpless  state.  Though  prophecies  of  deliverance  were 
given  them,  they  saw  not  how  these  predictions  could 
be  fulfilled.  Their  enemies  were  too  much  in  love  with 
power  willingly  to  liberate  their  captives;  and  their 
own  number  had  been  so  much  reduced  by  the  sword, 
that  they  could  never  hope  to  regain  their  liberty  by 
force.  And  what  power  have  we  to  rescue  ourselves 
from  that  state  of  guilt  and  of  wretchedness,  into  which 
we  are  fallen  ?  The  law,  which  we  have  violated,  de- 
nounces misery  on  our  heads,  a  misery  as  great  and  as 
lasting  as  our  guilt,  and  who  can  resist  its  authority  or 
repel  its  curse?  We  have  yielded  our  souls  to  the  do- 
minion of  sin  ;  we  have  debased  and  polluted  them ; 
and  who  is  he  that  can  cleanse  them  and  deliver  them 
from  their  bondage  ?  We  have  lost  even  the  desire  of 
being  made  free  from  sin,  and  would  rather  perish  than 
cease  to  obey  its  laws.  Our  guilt  has  made  our  situa- 
tion desperate,  and  our  inveterate  depravity  has  con- 
firmed its  hopelessness.  The  Bible  accordingly  de- 
scribes us  as  lost  and  helpless,  destroyed  and  perishing, 
utterly  undone. 

Have  we  felt  this  to  be  our  condition,  brethren  ?  Are 
we  really  sincere  and  in  earnest,  when  we  acknowledge 
that  we  are  titd  and  bound  by  the  chain  of  our  sins, 
and  call  ourselves  miserable  sinners  ?  Do  we  heartily 
believe  the  account,  which  the  Scriptures  give  us  of 
our  fallen  state  ?  And  are  we  day  by  day  mourning  over 
our  degradation,  our  misery,  our  guilt,  and  our  help- 
lessness ?  Then  we,  as  well  as  the  enslaved  Jews,  have 


364  The  Israelites 

a  promise  of  deliverance,  and  may  contemplate  their 
liberation  as  a   representation  and  pledge  of  our  own. 

II.  1.  In  proceeding  therefore  to  our  second  subject 
of  consideration,  we  may  observe,  first,  that  the  delive- 
rance of  the  Israelites  from  their  bondage  was  effected 
Jbr  them  by  the  power  of  another.  They  themselves 
were  not  the  authors  of  it,  and  contributed  nothing  to- 
wards it.  The  appointed  years  of  their  captivity  were 
come  to  an  end,  and  they  were  as  powerless  and  help- 
less as  they  had  been  at  first ;  but  the  God,  against 
whom  they  had  sinned,  raised  up  a  deliverer  for  them. 
He  directed  Cyrus  to  lay  siege  to  the  city  of  their  ene- 
mies, and  crowned  his  arms  with  success.  Babylon  was 
taken,  and  the  Jews  were  permitted  by  the  conqueror 
to  return  to  their  own  land,  and  to  dwell  in  the  inhe- 
ritance of  their  fathers. 

Now  this  Cyrus  was  a  type  of  Christ,  the  great  spiri- 
tual deliverer;  and  if  we  are  ever  brought  out  of  our 
spiritual  bondage,  we  must  be  content  to  owe  our  liberty 
solely  to  him,  to  disclaim  all  the  glory  of  it,  and  to  give 
him  all  the  praise.  It  was  he,  who  unsolicited  and  un- 
expected  came  and  wrought  out  redemption  for  his 
ruined  people.  He  saw  them  guilty,  prisoners  to  divine 
justice,  and  about  to  be  consigned  to  destruction ;  and 
though  they  spurned  his  help,  he  made  his  own  soul 
an  offering  for  their  sin,  silenced  the  thunderings  of  the 
law  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  blood;  and  now,  when 
they  fly  to  him  for  refuge,  he  sets  them  as  free  from  its 
eursc,  as  though  they  had  never  sinned.  He  beheld 
them  in  subjection  to  sin  and  Satan,  and  trembling 
under  the  power  and  fear  of  death ;  he  came  and  over- 
threw their  enemies,  and  burst  their  bonds.  He  made 
an  end  of  sin;  he  destroyed  death;  he  bruised  Satan 
underneath  their  feet.    Their  degradation  too  was  not 


•       Returning  from  Babylon.  365 

overlooked  by  him.  They  were  in  exile,  and  they  were 
wretched  there  ;  but  he  raised  them  up  from  their  low 
estate,  and  recovered  for  them  the  blessedness  they  had 
lost.  He  is  now  employed  in  restoring  them  to  their 
forfeited  inheritance ;  in  leading  them,  not  to  a  city 
lying  desolate,  and  whose  walls  are  to  be  rebuilt  in 
troublous  times  by  their  own  wearied  hands,  but  to 
a  city,  which  has  been  for  ages  prepared  and  adorned 
for  them  ;  a  city,  "  which  hath  foundations,  whose 
builder  and  maker  is  God."  He  is  bringing  those  nigh 
to  God,  who  were  once  far  oif ;  he  is  guiding  a  com- 
pany of  wretched  aliens  back  to  their  long  lost  country ; 
yea,  he  has  already  restored  a  countless  number  of  pro- 
digals to  the  home,  from  which  they  had  wandered, 
and  made  safe  in  a  father's  house,  and  happy  in  a  fa- 
ther's arms. 

And  who,  brethren,  has  been  his  helper  in  effecting 
this  wondrous  redemption  ?  Review  the  deliverance  you 
have  obtained,  and  say  where  in  its  varied  and  mighty 
labours,  you  have  aided  your  deliverer.  There  is  no 
part  of  the  work,  that  you  can  claim  as  your  own.  You 
have  done  nothing,  absolutely  nothing.  You  feel  and 
confess  your  insufliciency ;  and  there  are  seasons  when 
you  value  your  redemption  the  more,  because  it  is  not 
the  work  of  your  own  hands,  because  you  have  received 
it  from  the  free  and  unmerited  bounty  of  the  Friend 
whom  you  love.  Act  then  upon  this  conviction.  Have 
no  confidence  in  the  flesh.  Think  not  of  completing 
by  your  own  strength,  a  work  which  your  own  power 
never  could  have  begun.  Rely  simply  and  stedfustiy  on 
Christ.   Rejoice  in  him.   Live  to  his  praise. 

2.  The  deliverance  of  the  Israelites  ivas  also  openly 
proclaimed,  and  freely  offered.  Long  before  it  took 
place,  it  was  made  the  frequent  subject  of  prophecy ; 


.166  The  Israelites 

and  when  Cyrus  had  determined  on  liberatin,^  the  cap- 
tives, he  ordered  a  proclamation  of  freedom  to  be  cir- 
culated in  every  part  of  the  land,  and  to  be  published 
by  the  voice  of  watchmen  on  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
that  none  might  be  ignorant  of  it ;  and  he  excluded 
none  from  the  joyful  tidings  of  deliverance  contained 
in  it. 

To  this  proclamation  Saint  Paul  alludes  in  the  tenth 
chapter  of  his  epistle  to  the  Romans,  and  speaks  of  it  as 
a  representation  of  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  to  the 
enslaved  nations  of  the  earth.  No  sooner  had  man 
sinned,  than  a  promise  of  redemption  was  given  him  ; 
and  through  many  succeeding  ages,  this  promise  was 
frequently  renewed,  and  more  extensively  made  known. 
At  length  in  the  fulness  of  time,  the  great  deliverer 
came,  bringing  good  tidings  of  good,  and  publishing 
salvation  and  peace.  He  himself  preached  his  gospel  to 
the  poor.  He  proclaimed  liberty  to  the  captives,  and 
the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are  bound.  And 
when  he  was  about  to  leave  the  habitation  of  men,  he 
commanded  his  disciples  to  carry  the  news  of  salvation 
throughout  a  perishing  world  ;  to  suffer  no  poor  cap- 
tive to  remain  ignorant  of  the  redemption  wrought  out 
for  him,  but  to  call  upon  all  to  flee  from  destruction, 
and  to  return  with  penitence  and  faith  to  their  recon- 
ciled God.  From  that  period  to  the  present  hour,  the 
voice  of  mercy  has  never  ceased  to  be  heard.  We  have 
had  the  bread  of  adversity,  and  the  water  of  affliction, 
but  the  heralds  of  Jesus  have  still  been  going  to  and  fro 
in  the  earth;  aiid  the  time,  we  trust,  is  rapidly  approach- 
ing when  the  eyes  of  all  men  shall  see  their  teachers ; 
when  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be  proclaimed  on  the 
top  of  every  mountain,  and  every  valley  resound  with 
his  praise.  And  to  whom  are  the  rich  blessings  of  this 


Reiiirning  from  Babylon,  367 

salvation  offered?  To  all  who  hear  of  them.  Not  a 
sinner  on  the  earth  is  excluded.  Among  the  thousands, 
who  are  groaning  in  bondage,  there  is  not  one  too  guilty 
to  be  ransomed,  nor  too  wretched  to  be  redeemed  and 
blessed.  Sinners,  the  cliief  of  sinners,  the  lost,  the 
perishing,  are  the  very  persons,  to  whom  the  proclama- 
tion of  mercy  is  addressed  ;  the  very  captives,  for  whom 
a  wa)'^  of  escape  has  been  opened.  We  ourselves,  bre- 
thren, are  interested  in  these  tidings  of  deliverance. 
Salvation  from  sin  and  its  consequences,  is  at  this  very 
hour  freely  and  most  graciously  offered  us.  Have  we  ac- 
cepted it?  Are  we  rescued,  ransomed,  made  free?  No 
enquiry  can  be  more  important  than  this,  and  there  is 
none  to  which  some  amongst  us  are  more  anxious  to 
obtain  a  satisfactory  reply.  The  text  will  aid  us  in  an- 
swering it. 

III.  The  proclamation  of  Cyrus  Vv^as  received  by  the 
Jews  with  very  different  feelings.  Some  of  tliem  re- 
garded it  with  indifference.  They  had  obtained  pro- 
perty and  formed  conuexions  in  the  land  of  their  cap- 
tivity, and  were  content  to  remain  there;  while  others 
welcomed  the  tidings  it  brought  them  with  the  most 
exulting  joy,  and  immediately  began  their  journey  to 
their  native  land.  The  prophet  in  the  words  before  us, 
describes  the  feelings  with  which  this  journey  was  com- 
menced ;  and  they  are  the  very  feelings  with  which 
every  redeemed  sinner  begins  his  pilgrimage  to  the 
heavenly  Zion.  O  that  we  may  be  able  to  trace  in  them 
the  workings  of  our  own  minds,  and  have  reason  to  re- 
joice over  ourselves  as  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord,  and 
travellers  to  his  kingdom ! 

1.  As  we  behold  the  Israelites  leaving  in  a  body  the 
land  of  the  Chaldeans,  the  first  circumstance,  which 
arrests  our  attention,  is  their  penitence.    The  children 


368  The  Israelites 

of  Israel  and  the  children  of  Judah  are  described  as 
goinj^  and  zveepi?iq:  But  why  do  they  weep  ?  The 
mercy  they  have  received  has  softened  their  hearts.  It 
has  shewn  them  the  tenderness  of  their  heavenly  Father 
towards  his  rebellions  children,  and  taught  them  to 
view  the  sins,  which  they  have  committed  against  him, 
in  their  proper  light.  They  once  regarded  him  as  their 
avenging  Judge,  and  the  thought  but  little  affected 
them  ;  but  now  they  regard  him  as  their  pardoning  and 
redeeming  God,  and  a  sense  of  his  love  causes  them  to 
be  ashamed  of  their  past  ingratitude,  and  to  weep  as 
they  remember  their  guilt. 

This  godly  sorrow  is,  in  every  instance,  one  of  the 
first  fruits  of  genuine  religion.  By  nature  our  hearts  are 
hard,  so  hard  that  the  most  awful  judgments  can  make 
no  abiding  impression  on  them ;  but  when  we  are 
roused  out  of  our  spiritual  unconcern  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  and  begin  to  look  with  the  eye  of  faith  on  the 
great  Saviour  of  sinners,  a  train  of  new  and  deep  emo- 
tions is  excited  in  our  minds.  Our  religion  immediately 
assumes  a  new  character.  There  is  a  feeling,  a  life,  an 
energy  in  it ;  and  we  comprehend,  for  the  first  time, 
what  is  meant  by  the  religion  of  the  heart.  Our  former 
associates  are  as  gay,  perhaps,  and  as  thoughtless  as 
ever,  but  we  can  no  more  forbear  to  weep,  than  the 
stricken  deer  to  bleed.  When  we  contemplate  the 
greatness,  the  majesty,  and  wonderful  purity  of  the 
Being  against  whom  we  have  so  daringly  sinned,  we 
are  filled  with  shame  and  sorrow :  but  when  we  think 
of  his  forbearance  in  sparing  us  so  long  in  the  world 
notwithstanding  our  rebellion  against  him,  and  of  the 
grace  which  stopped  us  in  our  dreadful  course,  and 
snatched  us  as  brands  from  the  burning ;  when  we  look 
back  to  the  misery  from  which  we  have  been  delivered, 


Returning  from  Babylon.  369 

and  extend  our  view  forward  to  that  heavenly  Jerusalem 
of  which  we  now  cherish  the  hope  that  we  shall  ere 
long  be  the  inhabitants,  our  hearts  must  overflow  with 
the  liveliest  and  sweetest  emotions,  and  the  tears  of 
contrition  and  trembling  joy  must  burst  from  our  eyes. 
O  that  the  world  were  filled  with  such  mourners !  Then 
would  peace  come  down  from  heaven  and  dwell  in  it, 
and  the  God  of  peace  take  up  his  abode  in  our  hearts. 
2.  The  next  remarkable  circumstance  in  the  conduct 
of  these  liberated  Jews,  is  their  anxiety  lest  they  should 
mistake  the  xvay^  that  is  to  lead  them  to  Jerusalem. 
'^  They  shall  ask  the  way  to  Zion."  And  is  not  this 
fearfulness,  this  spirit  of  enquiry,  found  in  all  who  have 
fixed  their  heart  on  heaven  ?  There  was  a  time  when 
they  were  destitute  of  all  anxiety  on  the  subject.  They 
thought  themselves  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  way 
to  God.  They  deemed  it  broad  and  plain,  and  looked 
on  him  as  an  enthusiast,  who  asked  what  he  must  do 
to  be  saved.  But  now  all  this  self-confidence  and  ima- 
ginary security  are  come  to  an  end.  A  conviction  of 
their  ignorance  has  forced  itself  on  their  minds.  They 
see  themselves  to  be  far  off  from  God,  and  unacquainted 
with  the  road,  which  will  lead  a  sinner  back  to  him. 
They  know  too  that  mistakes  in  religion  are  not  trifling 
errors ;  that  there  is  but  one  way,  in  which  they  can 
obtain  the  salvation  they  need,  and  that  to  seek  it  in, 
any  other  way  is  to  be  for  ever  undone.  Hence  they 
are  now  as  ready  to  ask  for  instruction,  as  they  were 
before  to  repel  it.  The  once  despised  Christian  friend 
is  sought,  and  his  words  treasured  up  in  the  heart. 
The  long  neglected  Bible  is  searched.  The  throne  of 
grace  is  approached,  and  that  enlightening  influence, 
which  was  once  spurned  and  contemned,  is  now  sup- 
plicated with  all  the  energy  of  the  soul. 

3  A 


m^ 


370  The  Israelites 

3.  We  may  notice,  thirdly,  the  decision  of  these  re- 
turning captives  ;  the  earnestness  and  resolution,  with 
which  they  seek  the  Lord.  *'  They  ask  the  way  to  Zion 
with  their  faces  thitherxvarcl.  This  expression  evidently 
denotes  strong  desire,  fixed  determination,  a  mind  pre- 
pared to  endure  and  to  overcome  every  difficulty.  And 
no  man  ever  arrived  at  the  heavenly  Zion,  without  pos- 
sessing such  a  mind  as  this.  Religion  may  occupy  our 
attention,  it  may  interest  our  feelings,  and  excite  our 
enquiries ;  this  attention  may  be  close,  these  feelings 
deep,  these  enquiries  sincere;  but  till  Babylon  is  left, 
till  a  sinful  world  is  forsaken,  till  sin  is  renounced,  till 
the  desire  of  salvation  becomes  the  ruling  principle  of 
the  soul,  we  must  not,  we  dare  not  regard  ourselves 
as  walking  in  the  path  of  life,  nor  look  on  heaven  as 
our  home. 

And  yet,  brethren,  how  many  of  us  are  contenting 
ourselves  with  a  religion,  which  leaves  us  worldly- 
minded,  hesitating,  and  undecided !  We  ask  the  way 
to  Zion,  but  we  do  not  walk  in  it ;  or  if  at  some  sea- 
sons we  appear  to  enter  in  at  its  strait  gate,  it  is  soon 
forsaken,  and  we  are  again  hurrying  along  a  more  be- 
loved and  an  easier  road.  We  seem  to  desire  heaven, 
but  we  desire  the  vanities  of  the  world  more.  We  think 
that  we  love  God,  but  when  our  love  is  put  to  the  test, 
what  is  the  result  ?  We  pour  contempt  on  his  favour  ; 
we  trample  on  his  laws ;  we  write  this  name  on  our 
foreheads,  *"'  Lovers  of  pleasure,  more  than  lovers  of 
God." 

Were  we  really  Christians,  there  would  be  an  end  of 
our  indecision.  We  should  see  its  danger,  and  we 
should  see  also  its  utter  inconsistency  with  the  nature 
of  the  Christian  life.  We  should  be  convinced  that  we 
could  not  yield  to  it,  even  were  it  lawful  to  yield ;  that 


•«y»> 


Returning  from  Babylon.  371 

the  riches  of  eternity  not  only  demand,  but  absolutely 
engage,  the  warmest  aflfections  of  every  man^  who  is 
acquainted  with  their  worth. 

Rest  not  satisfied  then  till  religion  is  made  your  first 
concern,  and  the  salvation  of  your  soul  your  first  pur- 
suit ;  till,  like  Paul,  you  are  willing  to  suffer  the  loss  of 
all  things,  that  you  may  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in 
him ;  till,  like  Peter,  you  rejoice  to  be  counted  worthy 
to  suffer  shame  for  his  name;  till,  like  Moses,  you 
esteem  his  reproach  greater  riches  than  all  the  treasures 
of  the  world. 

Having  thus  far  considered  the  description,  which 
the  prophet  has  here  given  us  of  the  feelings  and  con- 
duct of  these  liberated  Israelites,  let  us  for  the  present 
pause,  and  enter  on  the  work  of  self-examination.  Can 
we  trace  in  this  picture  a  resemblance  to  ourselves  ? 
We  profess  to  be  seeking  heaven ;  are  we  seeking  it, 
as  the  returning  Jews  sought  Zion,  with  a  tender  heart, 
a  broken  and  contrite  spirit  ?  Are  we  humble  and 
earnest  enquirers  after  God  ?  though  fearful  and  trem- 
bling, yet  resolute  and  decided  Christians  ?  Are  we 
acting  like  travellers,  who  are  passing  through  a  fo- 
reign country  to  a  long  wished  for  home?  Is  it  our 
desire  to  be  joined  to  the  Lord,  and  to  be  entirely  and 
for  ever  his  ?  If  these  things,  brethren,  be  in  you  and 
abound,  you  are  warranted  to  conclude  that  your  bon- 
dage is  come  to  an  everlasting  end,  and  that  your  deli- 
verer is  guiding  you  by  the  right  way  to  a  city  of  habi- 
tation. Walk  worthy  then  of  the  high  vocation,  where- 
with you  are  called.  Cultivate  the  spirit  which  becomes 
a  ransomed  captive.  And  what  is  this  spirit  ?  A  mind 
yielding  to  the  influence  of  gloom  and  despondency  ? 
looking  back  on  the  past  without  thankfulness,  and  to 
the  future  without  hope  ?  No ;  it  is  a  grateful  and  con- 


37S  The  Israelites 

fiding  spirit,  a  spirit  of  the  liveliest  joy,  that  ever  filled 
a  glowing  heart,  or  moved  a  praising  tongue.  It  is  true 
that  they,  who  are  seeking  heaven,  begin  to  seek  it 
weeping;  but  there  is  a  blessedness,  which  mingles 
itself  with  their  sorrow  ;  a  feeling  of  security  and  hope, 
which  often  changes  their  tears  of  penitence  into  tears 
of  joy.  The  children  of  Israel  wept  as  they  left  the  con- 
fmes  of  Babylon,  but  the  prophets  are  constrained  to 
employ  the  strongest  language  to  express  the  greatness 
of  their  exultation.  "  They  go  out  with  joy,  and  they 
are  led  forth  with  peace.  The  mountains  and  the  hills 
break  forth  before  them  into  singing,  and  all  the  trees 
of  the  field  clap  their  hands  "  And  what  is  their  own 
account  of  the  matter  ?  Read  it  in  the  hundred  and 
twenty-sixth  psalm.  "  When  the  Lord  turned  again 
the  captivity  of  Zion,  we  were  like  them  that  dream. 
Then  was  our  mouth  filled  with  laughter,  and  our 
tongue  with  singing."  And  with  what  was  this  joy  ac- 
companied ?  With  praise  ;  with  an  open  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  power  and  goodness  of  their  God.  "  Then 
said  they  among  the  heathen,  '  The  Lord  hath  done 
great  things  for  them.'  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things 
for  us,"  is  the  answer  of  the  rejoicing  people,  "  whereof 
we  are  glad."  But  in  the  midst  of  their  gladness,  we 
hear  from  them  the  voice  of  prayer.  Though  delivered 
from  bondage,  they  are  still  at  a  distance  from  Jerusa- 
lem, and  they  beseech  him,  who  had  begun,  to  com- 
plete their  redemption.  "  Turn  again  our  captivity,  O 
Lord,  as  the  streams  in  the  south."  But  there  was  no 
distrust  in  this  prayer.  It  proceeded  from  a  lively  and 
stedfast  faith  in  the  divine  promises.  "  They  that  sow 
in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy.  He  that  goedi  forth  and 
weepcth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come 
again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 


Returning  from  Bahjlon,  373 

Here  then  is  your  model,  brethren.  Strive  to  be  con- 
formed to  it.  Rejoice  in  your  deliverance  from  sin  and 
wretchedness,  and  be  fervent  in  the  praise  of  him,  who 
pitied  you  in  your  low  estate,  and  redeemed  you  from 
the  hand  of  the  enemy.  O  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord, 
for  he  is  good,  and  his  mercy  endureth  for  ever.  For 
he  hath  broken  the  gates  of  brass,  and  cut  the  bars  of 
iron  in  sunder."  You  are  thankful  for  earthly  blessings, 
for  health,  for  liberty,  for  peace ;  you  would  deem  it 
sinful  to  receive  even  your  daily  food  without  some 
slight  acknowledgment  of  that  bountiful  benefactor, 
who  filleth  the  hungry  with  goodness.  Be  thankful  also 
for  spiritual  mercies.  While  the  preserver  of  your  bo- 
dies is  remembered,  let  not  the  redeemer  of  your  souls 
be  forgotten,  nor  the  wonders  of  grace,  which  he  has 
wrought  for  you,  be  buried  in  perpetual  oblivion. 
When  he  formed  you  at  first,  and  made  you  his  pecu- 
liar people,  it  was  that  you  might  show  forth  his  praise ; 
when  he  bought  you  with  the  costly  price  of  his  own 
blood,  he  made  you  his  own  that  you  might  glorif}'^  him  ; 
when  he  delivered  you  out  of  the  hand  of  your  enemies, 
he  sent  you  deliverance  that  you  might  serve  him  in 
holiness  and  righteousness  all  the  days  of  your  life.  O 
give  him  then  the  poor  service,  w^hich  he  has  so  dearly 
purchased.  Render  him  the  worthless  praise,  which  he 
so  highly  values.  Live  habitually  as  those,  who  are  not 
their  own,  but  a  redeeming  Lord's ;  and  consecrate  to 
his  service  all  you  have,  and  all  you  are,  your  health 
and  strength,  your  time  and  property,  all  the  members 
of  your  body  and  all  the  faculties  of  your  mind. 

But  you  arc  called  to  watchfulness  and  prayer,  as 
well  as  to  joy  and  praise.  You  have  left  the  kingdom 
of  darkness,  but  you  have  not  yet  entered  on  the  mhe- 
ritance  of  the  saints  in  light.    The  city  of  your  God  is 


374  The  Israelites 

still  at  a  distance  before  you,  and  you  must  pass  to  it 
through  an  enemy's  country,  where  thousands  arc  lying 
in  wait  to  deceive,  and  seeking  an  opportunity  to  de- 
vour. Tribulation  therefore  must  be  expected,  difficul- 
ties and  dangers,  temptations  and  conflicts.  These 
things  will  be  daily  reminding  you  of  your  weakness, 
and  causing  you  to  deplore  with  many  bitter  tears,  the 
remaining  earthlincss  and  desperate  wickedness  of  your 
hearts;  but  while  they  keep  you  humbic,  prayerful, 
and  vigilant,  let  them  not  trouble  you.  He,  who  has 
redeemed,  is  able  to  protect  you,  and  has  pledged  him- 
self never  to  leave  nor  forsake  you  in  your  pilgrimage  ; 
to  uphold  you  by  his  power,  and  guide  you  by  his 
couns»:rl,  till  you  are  walking  the  streets,  beholding  the 
glory,  and  sharing  the  joys  of  the  heavenly  Zion..  "  Fear 
not,"  is  his  language  to  Cdch  of  the  people,  whom  he 
has  set  apart  for  himself,  "  for  I  have  redeemed  thee. 
I  have  called  thee  by  thy  name ;  thou  art  mine.  When 
thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee, 
and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee ; 
when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt  not  be 
burnt,  neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  "thee;  for  I 
am  the  Lord,  thy  God ;  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  thy 
Saviour."  "  The  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and 
come  to  Zion,  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their 
heads  ;  they  shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow 
and  sighing  shall  flee  away." 

How  encouraging  are  these  promises !  How  well  cal- 
culated to  strengthen  every  feeble  knee,  and  to  raise 
ever}'  sinking  heart !  But  while  our  souls  are  refreshed 
by  them,  it  is  p.inful  to  reflect  that  many  around  us, 
and  some  perhaps  who  are  exceedingly  dear  to  us, 
neither  enjoy  nor  desire  tlie  cons(jlation  they  impart. 
It  was  the  same  among  the  Jews.     When  the  messen- 


Returning  from  Babylon.  375 

gers  of  Cyrus  proclaimed  liberty  to  their  enslaved  na- 
tion, thousands  of  them  refused  the  offered  freedom, 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  property  and  connexions,  which 
they  had  acquired  in  Babylon,  were  content  to  give  up 
for  ever  their  country  and  their  God.  They  were  in 
fact  indifferent  about  liberty,  and  consequently  refused 
to  incur  the  sli,qhtest  loss  or  difficulty  in  order  to  ob- 
tain it.  Who  does  not  pity  the  folly,  and  condemn  the 
baseness  of  their  conduct  ?  But  how  much  more  pitia- 
ble is  that  folly,  which  gives  up  the  glories  of  an  eter- 
nal heaven,  for  the  vanities  of  a  fading  world  !  and  how 
much  more  worthy  of  condemnation  the  baseness, 
which  prefers  the  shameful  bondage  of  Satan  to  the 
service  of  God  !  Such  a  mind  must  indeed  have  fallen 
most  awfully  low,  and  might  force  an  angel  to  weep 
over  its  degradation.  It  is  however  the  very  same  mind, 
which  is  natural  to  fallen  man,  which  we  ourselves  once 
possessed  and  may  still  possess  ;  the  very  mind,  which 
some  of  you,  brethren,  may  have  carried  about  with 
you  all  your  life  long,  and  to  the  debasing  influence  of 
which  you  may  at  this  very  hour  be  yielding.  The 
Scriptures  tell  you  that  you  are  by  nature  in  a  state  of 
the  most  abject  subjection  to  sin  ;  that  it  is  fettering, 
debasing,  destroying  you  ;  and  the  evil  dispositions  you 
are  daily  manifesting  confirm  the  testimony ;  but  no 
feeling  of  humiliation  enters  your  mind,  and  you  treat 
the  liberty  offered  you  in  the  gospel  with  contempt,  or 
at  best  with  cold  indifference.  The  truth  is,  you  know 
not  that  you  are  slaves.  You  love  your  captivity.  Its 
employments  and  pursuits  are  adapted  to  the  desires  of 
your  corrupt  hearts,  and  though  they  weary,  and  agi- 
tate, and  at  seasons  torment  you,  not  one  sigh  for  free- 
dom have  you  ever  breathed,  not  a  single  real  struggle 
for  deliverance  have  vou  made.  It  is  this  awful  insensi- 


37 (^  The  Israelites  Returning,  &c. 

bility,  which  renders  your  situation  so  pitiable  and  dan- 
gerous. O  be  persuaded  to  strive  against  it !  Force 
yourselves  to  enquire  seriously  and  closely  into  your 
present  condition  and  future  prospects.  Pray  for  the 
aid  of  that  Holy  Spirit,  who  can  rouse  the  most  careless, 
and  teach  the  most  ignorant,  and  free  the  most  enslaved. 
The  language,  which  this  almighty  Spirit  addresses  to 
you,  is  the  same  animating  and  gracious  language,  which 
he  addressed  to  Israel  of  old.  "  Awake,  awake,  put  on 
thy  strength,  O  Zion.  Shake  thyself  from  the  dust ; 
arise  and  sit  down,  O  Jerusalem.  Loose  thyself  from 
the  bands  of  thy  neck,  O  captive  daughter  of  Zion. 
For  thus  saith  the  Lord,  '  Ye  have  sold  yourselves  for 
nought,  and  ye  shall  be  redeemed  without  money.'  " 
This  free  and  complete  redemption  is  this  day  urged  on 
your  acceptance.  The  way  to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem 
is  set  open  before  you,  and  there  is  not  one  poor  captive 
here,  who  is  not  invited,  nay,  commanded  to  enter  it- 
Avail  yourselves  then  of  this  great  salvation.  Seek  in 
Christ  pardon  and  deliverance.  Believe  the  record, 
which  God  has  given  you  of  his  Son.  Embrace  his  of- 
fered mercy.  Come  out  from  a  perishing  world.  Take 
the  Lord  for  your  God,  and  join  yourselves  to  him  in 
that  covenant,  which  he  has  made  with  his  chosen ;  a 
covenant,  which  he  is  ready  to  make  with  you,  and 
which  can  secure  to  you  all  the  blessings  of  time,  and 
all  the  glories  of  eternity. 


SERMON  XXIV. 


THE  REDEE^IED  SINNER  JOINING  HIMSELF 
IN  A  COVENANT  WITH  GOH. 


JEREMIAH  1.  5. 

Come,  and  let  us  join  ourselves  to  the  Lord  in  a  /ler/ielual  cox'ena72t, 
that  shall  not  be  forgotten. 


JLN  our  intercourse  with  the  world,  such  language  as 
this  seldom  reaches  our  ears,  or  proceeds  from  our  lips. 
But  a  kinder  invitation  could  not  possibly  be  addressed 
to  us,  nor  could  we  offer  to  those,  whom  we  love,  more 
friendly  advice.  The  prophet  ascribes  it  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  the  children  of  Israel  and  of  Judah,  as  they  were 
commencing  their  journey  from  Babylon  to  their  own 
land.  Previously  to  their  captivity,  there  had  existed 
between  these  two  nations  an  inveterate  enmity ;  but  a 
fellowship  in  the  same  afflictions  had  materially  softened 
it,  and  now  by  a  participation  in  the  same  deliverance, 
it  was  entirely  removed.  They  are  described  in  the 
passage  connected  with  the  text,  as  a  company  of  libe- 
rated captives,  forgetting  in  the  emotions  of  penitence 
and  joy  every  private  and  national  animosity,  and  testi- 
fying the  sincerity  of  their  reconciliation  by  urging  each 
other  to  an  immediate  and  entire  dedication  of  them- 
selves to  their  redeeming  God.  '^  In  those  days  and  in 
that  time,  saith  the  Lord,  the  children  of  Israel  shall 
come,  they  and  the  children  of  Judah  together,  going 
and  weeping ;  they  shall  go  and  seek  the  Lord  their 

3  B 


378  The  Redeeriied  Sinner  joining 

God.  They  shall  ask  the  way  to  Zion  with  their  faces 
tliithervvard,  saying,  *  Come,  and  let  us  join  ourselves 
to  the  Lord  in  a  perpetual  covenant,  that  shall  not  be 
forgotten.'  " 

Regarding  the  words  of  the  prophet  in  a  spiritual 
light,  they  lead  us  to  enquire,  j^rj^,  why  the  Alniighty 
condescends  to  enter  into  a  covenant  with  his  redeemed 
people  ;  and,  secondly,  what  is  implied  in  their  joining 
themselves  to  him  in  a  covenant. 

I.  Our  first  subject  of  consideration  must  not  how- 
ever, be  entered  on  with  rashness  ;  for  who  are  we,  that 
we  should  presume  to  be  acquainted  with  the  designs, 
and  account  for  the  actions  of  an  incomprehensible 
God?  An  inspired  apostle,  when  contemplating  the 
wonders  of  his  grace,  soon  found  that  the  subject  was 
too  vast  even  for  his  powerful  mind  to  grasp  it,  and 
was  constrained  to  end  the  most  comprehensive  de- 
scription of  the  gospel  that  was  ever  penned,  with  a 
declaration  of  the  infinite  greatness  of  Jehovah,  and  his 
own  litter  inability  to  fathom  his  judgments.  "  O  the 
depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge 
of  God  !  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his 
ways  past  finding  out !  For  who  hath  known  the  mind 
of  the  Lord  :  or  who  hath  been  his  counsellor  ?" 

But  while  a  recollection  of  the  divine  greatness  should 
restrain  every  presumptuous  effort  to  be  wise  above  that 
which  is  written,  it  ought  not  to  deter  us  from  endea- 
vouring to  learn  all  that  this  unsearchable  God  has  re- 
vealed of  himself  and  his  ways,  in  his  holy  word.  May 
he  give  to  us  now  a  serious  and  humble  mind,  and  en- 
able us  to  discover  some  of  the  wise  and  gracious  mo- 
tives, which  have  made  him  so  willing  to  enter  into 
a  covenant  with  the  ^vorthless  sinners,  whom  he  has 
redeemed ! 


himself  in  a  Covenant  with  God.         379 

We  all  know  what  is  meant  by  a  covenant.  It  is  an 
agreement  between  two  or  more  parties,  by  which  each 
binds  Iiimself  to  the  performance  of  certain  promises  on 
certain  conditions.  Such  an  agreement  did  the  Lord 
enter  into  with  Adam  in  his  state  of  innocence.  He 
promised  to  him  and  his  posterity  a  continuance  of  the 
happiness  he  enjoyed,  on  the  condition  of  perfect  obe- 
dience on  his  part  to  the  law,  which  he  had  given  him. 
It  is  evident  however,  that  this  cannot  be  the  covenant 
which  God  is  now  ready  to  foni\  with  us.  Sin  has 
altered  the  condition  of  man,  and  rendered  him  totally 
unable  to  ofi'er  to  God  anv  comnensation  for  his  benefits. 
No  compensation  therefore  is  required  of  him.  The 
covenant,  into  which  he  is  now  invited  to  enter,  is  a 
new  covenant  of  grace  ;  a  collection  of  exceeding  great 
and  precious  promises,  by  which  the  Most  High  en« 
gages  to  bestow  on  his  people,  all  the  blessings  of  saU 
vati6n  on  this  one  condition,  if  such  it  may  be  called, 
that  they  are  willing  to  apply  for  and  receive  them. 
Mere  promises  however  do  not  content  him.  He  binds 
himself  by  the  most  solemn  engagements  to  receive 
every  sinner,  who  comes  to  him  in  the  name  of  his  cru- 
cified Son ;  to  pardon  his  iniquities,  to  restore  him 
again  to  his  favour,  to  write  his  holy  laws  in  his  heart, 
to  give  him  all  that  he  needs  during  his  pilgrimage  on 
earth,  and  to  take  him  at  the  end  of  it  to  his  own  hea- 
venly kingdom. 

1.  He  has  thus  pledged  himself  to  his  people  to  show 
how  greatly  he  honours  them.  "  Since  tliou  wast  pre- 
cious in  my  sight,"  says  he  to  his  church,  "  thou  hast 
been  honourable;"  and  he  appears  determined  that  all 
the  universe  shall  see  the  honour,  with  which  he  has 
covered  them.  Though  they  can  offer  him  nothing  in 
return  for  all  his  benefits,  though  they  are  sunk  so  low 


380  The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

as  to  be  unworthy  to  lift  up  their  eyes  unto  the  heaven 
where  he  dwells,  vet  he  deals  with  them  as  thou2:h  he 
greatly  valued  their  services,  and  deemed  them  worthy 
to  treat  with  him,  and  to  stand  in  a  near  and  endearing 
relation  to  iiinibelf.  Hence  he  often  represents  the  mer- 
cies he  bestows  on  them,  as  the  rewards  of  their  obe- 
dience, and  calls  them  in  his  covenant,  his  friends  and 
his  children.  The  name  of  sinners  seems  to  be  almost 
erased  from  the  charter  of  their  privileges,  and  the  name 
of  the  sons  of  God  written  in  its  stead. 

2.  But  this  gracious  God  has  entered  into  a  covenant 
with  his  people,  that  he  may  bind  them  more  closely  to 
himself^  as  well  as  clothe  them  with  honour.  He  well 
knows  how  unstable  our  hearts  are  ;  how  prone  we  are 
to  wander  from  him,  and  to  return  to  our  former  cap- 
tivity. He  therefore  binds  us  to  himself  by  a  covenant, 
which  he  causes  each  of  us  personally  and  for  himself 
to  enter  into  with  him.  Thus  he  has  not  only  a  claim 
on  us  as  our  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier;  we 
are  his  by  a  voluntary  surrender  of  ourselves  to  him, 
by  our  own  bond  and  obligation,  by  promises  and  vows. 
In  his  address  to  the  Jews  after  their  public  dedication 
of  themselves  to  the  God  of  their  fathers,  Moses  re- 
peatedly reminds  them  of  this  bond  of  union  between 
them  and  the  Lord  ;  and  in  the  conclusion  of  the  twen- 
ty-sixth chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  we  find  him  telling 
them  that  Jehovah  had  formed  a  covenant  with  them 
for  the  express  purposes  of  putting  an  honour  upon  their 
nation,  and  sanctifying  them  to  himself.  "  The  Lord 
hath  avouched  thee  this  day  to  be  his  peculiar  people,  as 
he  hath  promised  thee,  and  that  thou  shouldst  keep  all 
his  commandments ;  and  to  make  tliee  high  above  all 
nations,  which  he  haih  made,  in  praise,  and  in  name, 
and  in  honour;  and  that  thou  mayest  be  an  holy  people 
unto  the  Lord  thy  God,  as  he  hath  spoken." 


himself  171  a  Covenant  with  God.         381 

3.  But  the  chief  reason,  why  it  has  pleased  God  to 
enter  into  a  covenant  with  his  servants  is  this, — to  show 
them  the  sureness  of  his  mercy^  the  certainty  of.  their 
receiving  pardon,  grace,  and  salvation  at  his  hands.  It 
might  indeed  have  been  supposed  that  the  promise  of 
an  unchangeable  God,  was  a  sufficient  foundation  for 
the  confidence  of  his  creatures ;  but  he  knows  the  diffi- 
culty, with  which  our  unbelieving  hearts  are  brought 
to  give  credit  to  his  word,  and  in  compassion  to  the 
sinful  infirmity,  which  dishonours  him,  he  has  conde- 
scended to  add  to  his  promises  the  sanction  of  an  oath. 
"  Men  verily  swear  by  the  greater,"  says  Saint  Paul, 
"  and  an  oath  for  confirmation  is  to  them  an  end  of  all 
strife.  Wherein  God,  willing  more  abundantly  to  show 
unto  the  heirs  of  promise  the  immutability  of  his  coun- 
sel, confirmed  it  by  an  oath  ;  that  by  two  immutable 
things,  in  which  it  was  impossible  for  God  to  lie,  we 
might  have  strong  consolation,  who  have  fled  for  refuge 
to  lay  hold  upon  the  hope  set  before  us."  The  penitent 
sinner  therefore,  when  he  flies  for  refuge  to  the  atoning 
Saviour,  is  not  left  to  mere  conjecture.  There  is  some- 
thing more  than  a  possibility  or  probability  of  his  sal- 
vation. The  covenant  of  God  makes  it  certain.  He 
need  not  say  with  the  repentant  king  of  Nineveh,  "  Who 
can  tell  if  God  will  turn,  and  repent,  and  turn  away 
from  his  fierce  anger,  that  we  perish  not?"  but  he  may 
say  with  the  prophet,  "  Surely  in  the  Lord  have  I  righ- 
teousness and  strength."  hie  may  take  up  the  words  of 
the  confiding  Paul,  "  1  know  whom  1  have  believed, 
and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I 
have  committed  unto  him  against  that  day."  He  is 
warranted,  not  only  to  hope  in  the  mercy  of  the  Lord, 
but  to  rejoice  in  his  truth,  and  to  plead  his  fliithfulness 
at  his  throne.    He  still  stands  at  the  door  of  heaven  as 


383  The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

a  beggar,  but  then  he  is  a  beggar,  whose  wants  the 
master  of  the  house  has  pledged  himself  to  supply,  and 
whom  he  cannot  suffer  to  perish  without  tarnishing  the 
lustre  of  his  own  glory. 

II.  Such  are  some  of  the  reasons,  which  may  have 
induced  the  Almighty  to  enter  into  a  covenant  with  the 
sinners,  whom  he  has  ransomed.  Let  us  now  proceed 
to  enquire,  what  is  implied  in  their  availing  themselves 
of  his  condescension,  and  joining  themselves  to  him  in 
a  covenant. 

It  is  plain  that  this  act  of  dedication  is  something  of 
an  inward  and  spiritual  nature,  ra.her  than  an  outward 
and  visible  act.  It  is  true  that  baptism  and  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  Lord's  supper,  are  symbols  and  seals  of 
the  covenant,  but  it  is  equuUy  true  that  we  may  be  bap- 
tized in  the  name  of  Jesus,  and  be  frequent  guests  at 
his  table,  and  yet  have  formed  no  alliance  with  God, 
and  have  no  interest  in  the  most  precious  of  his  pro- 
mises. These  rites  are  useful  and  solemn,  so  useful  that 
no  good  man  will  neglect  them,  and  so  solemn  that  no 
wise  man  will  speak  lightly  of  them ;  but  what  is  the 
value  of  these  ordinances,  if  there  are  no  corresponding 
feelings  in  the  heart  j  if  there  is  no  spiritual  transaction 
between  the  soul  and  its  God  ?  They  are  useless.  They 
are  not  acceptable  to  God,  and  bring  down  no  blessing 
on  our  own  heads. 

1.  The  spiritual  union  spoken  of  in  the  text  implies, 
first,  a  renunciation  of  every  covenant  which  is  opposed 
to  this  covenant  with  God.  We  have  all  many  covenants 
of  this  nature  to  break  through.  We  have  all  joined 
ourselves  to  Satan,  unconsciously  perhaps,  but  sincerely 
and  closely.  We  have  sold  ourselves  to  sin,  and  have 
long  been  doing  its  works,  and  receiving  in  return  its 
pleasures.    As  for  the  world,  our  consciences  tcli  us 


himself  in  a  Covenant  with  God.         383 

that  it  has  been  our  god.  It  has  claimed  us  as  its  own, 
and  we  have  admitted  the  claim.  We  have  given  it  our 
warmest  affections,  our  most  unwearied  services.  We 
have  consented  to  conform  ourselves  to  its  laws,  to  act 
upon  its  principles,  to  court  its  smiles,  to  dread  its 
frowns.  To  enter  into  covenant  with  God  implies  there- 
fore, that  we  renounce  the  devil  and  all  his  works  ;  that 
we  begin  to  hate  and  strive  against  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  ; 
that  we  rise  superior  to  all  the  pomps  and  vanities  of 
this  wicked  world,  and  resolve  to  be  no  more  governed 
by  its  laws.  It  implies  an  utter  abhorrence  of  these  ty- 
rants of  the  soul;  a  restless  anxiety  to  escape  from  their 
thraldom  ;  a  willingless  to  endure  any  hardship,  to  en- 
counter an}'  risk,  so  that  we  may  break  their  bands 
asunder,  and  cast  away  their  cords  from  us. 

2.  But  before  we  can  enter  into  covenant  with  God, 
we  must  proceed  a  step  further,  and  accede  to  the  terms 
of  his  covenant ;  we  must  obtain  a  Scriptural  knowledge 
of  them,  approve,  and  embrace  them.  Now  these  terms 
are  so  simple,  that  a  child  may  comprehend  them ;  and 
so  gracious,  that  they  fill  the  minds  of  angels  with  won- 
der ;  but  because  they  are  opposed  to  the  imaginations 
of  our  depraved  hearts,  thousands  daily  reject  them, 
and  perish  rather  than  accept  them.  The  flict  is  that 
God  in  his  new  covenant  of  grace  deals  with  man  as  a 
destitute,  perishing,  helpless  beggar ;  and  man  will  not 
bear  to  be  thus  dealt  with  even  by  the  almighty  God. 
He  could  bear  to  be  treated  as  a  sinner,  and  would 
in  many  instances  be  willing  to  pay  the  price  of  re- 
pentance and  tears  for  his  pardon  ;  yea,  when  he  feels 
the  terrors  of  an  awakened  conscience,  he  would  give 
his  first-born  for  his  transgression,  the  fruit  of  his  body 
for  the  sin  of  his  soul ;  but  to  be  addressed  as  one  who 
is  altogether  worthless,  as  one,  who  in  the  expressive. 


384  Tlie  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

language  of  the  Spirit,  is  wretched,  and  miserable,  and 
poor,  and  blind,  and  naked — this  is  too  humiliating  for 
haughty  man  to  endure.  He  rejects  with  scorn  the 
mercies  so  degradingly  ofl'ercd  him,  and  determines  to 
obtain  pardon  and  heaven  in  some  other  way,  or  perish 
in  the  attempt.  And  in  such  an  attempt  he  must  inevi- 
tably perish.  God  will  confer  the  precious  blessings  of 
his  gospel  on  his  own  terms  only.  Though  he  has  ma- 
nifested the  riches  of  his  grace  in  offering  to  enter  into 
covenant  with  sinners,  yet  by  fixing  unalterably  the 
terms  of  this  covenant,  he  has  preserved  his  own  ho- 
nour, and  acted  with  the  dignity  of  a  sovereign. 

And  what  are  the  terms,  which  man  so  much  despises, 
and  to  which  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  so  stedfastly  ad- 
heres? They  are  so  gracious,  that  if  we  were  in  our 
right  mind  we  should  leap  with  joy  as  we  heard  of  them, 
and  CLiuse  the  earth  to  resound  with  our  praises.  This 
is  the  language  of  the  covenant,  "  He  that  believeth 
shall  be  saved."  It  asks  of  us  no  merit :  it  demands  of 
the  penitent  sinner  no  righteousness.  It  tells  him  to 
cast  away  all  dependence  upon  every  thing  that  he  can 
feel,  or  suffer,  or  do ;  and  upon  this  one  condition,  that 
he  heartily  believes  and  embraces  the  promises  of  the 
gospel,  it  assures  him  that  all  the  blessings  of  the  ever- 
lasting covenant  are  his.  When  therefore  the  soul, 
wounded  with  a  sense  of  its  sinfulness,  and  deeply  con- 
scious of  its  inability  to  save  itself  from  its  sins,  wearied 
with  its  efforts  to  establish  its  own  righteousness  and 
longing  for  a  righteousness  such  as  God  can  approve ; 
when  the  soul  thus  comes  and  casts  itself  on  the  free 
mercy  of  the  Lord  in  Christ  Jesus,  pleading  only  the 
merit  of  his  blood,  and  regarding  him  as  its  almighty 
and  willing  Saviour,  in  that  moment  a  covenant  of  peace 
is  entered  into  between  the  sinner  and  his  God :  a 


himself  in  a  Covenant  xvith  God.         385 

covenant,  which  will  never  be  forgotten  and  cannot  be 
destroyed. 

3.  And  what  follows?  Is  the  believing  sinner  hence- 
forth at  liberty  to  live  as  he  will  ?  to  be  disobedient  and 
lawless  ?  No,  brethren  ;  the  man  who  flies  to  the  gospel 
as  a  refuge  from  his  iniquities,  is  the  only  man  in  the 
world,  who  is  really  mindful  of  the  obedience  he  owes 
to  the  Being,  who  formed  him.  As  he  joins  himself  in  a 
covenant  to  his  redeeming  Lord,  he  gives  himself  up 
entirely  and  for  ever  to  his  service. 

This  self-dedication  is  the  necessary  consequence  of 
the  faith,  which  has  made  him  an  heir  of  the  promises. 
By  its  powerful  energy,  the  enslaving  influence  of  the 
world  and  worldly  things  is  overcome  ;  the  heart  is 
purified  ;  its  aflfections  are  withdrawn  from  the  objects 
which  before  engaged  and  defiled  them,  and  fixed  on 
that  infinitely  holy  Being,  from  whom  they  ought  never 
to  have  wandered.  ^'  Faith  worketh  by  love."  It  pro- 
duces in  the  soul  an  overpowering  sense  of  its  vast 
obligations  to  its  pardoning  God.  It  fills  the  heart  with 
the  tenderest  emotions,  as  it  thinks  of  the  riches  of  his 
goodness,  and  it  kindles  a  love  for  him,  which  con- 
strains the  sinner  to  fall  down  before  him  and  say, 
"  Truly,  O  Lord,  I  am  thy  servant ;  I  am  thy  servant ; 
for  thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds.  O  Lord,  our  God, 
other  lords  beside  thee  have  had  doniinion  over  us, 
but  by  thee  only  will  wc  make  mention  of  thy  name." 

Neither  is  it  a  partial  surrender  of  himself,  which  he 
thus  makes.  God  v/ould  not  receive  it  if  it  were. 
Though  he  is  a  God  of  incomprehensible  grace,  he  is 
still  an  awfully  jealous  God,  and  will  not  bear  a  rival 
even  in  a  sinner's  heart.  He  knows  indeed  how  to  bear 
with  the  corruptions  of  that  heart;  he  can  patiently 
endure  its  occasional  wanderings,  and  pity  even  its  sin- 

3  C 


386  The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

ful  infirmities  ;  but  its  supreme  affections  must  be  ha- 
bitually his,  or  he  will  not  regard  the  sinner  as  his  own. 
The  Christian,  therefore,  when  he  devotes  himself  to 
him,  makes  an  entire  surrender  of  himself,  of  all  he  is 
and  all  he  has,  to  his  service.  He  henceforth  regards 
nothing  as  his  own.  His  time,  his  substance,  his  influ- 
ence, all  the  members  of  his  body  and  all  the  faculties 
of  his  soul,  are  viewed  in  a  new  light,  as  the  property 
of  God.  He  before  did  with  them  whatsoever  he  would ; 
but  now  he  regards  them  as  talents  entrusted  to  him 
by  their  great  proprietor,  and  he  employs  them  to  his 
glory. 

He  determines  also  to  cleave  for  ever  to  the  Lord. 
^*  Come,"  said  the  ransomed  Israelites,  "  and  let  us 
join  ourselves  to  the  Lord  in  a  perpetual  covenant,  that 
shall  not  be  forgotten  ;"  and,  in  a  limited  sense,  they 
have  kept  this  covenant.  Before  their  captivity  they 
were  continually  forsaking  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and 
bowing  the  knee  to  idols  ;  but  never,  since  the  words 
before  us  passed  their  lips  at  the  gates  of  Babylon,  have 
they  as  a  nation  worshipped  strange  gods.  Dispersed 
throughout  all  the  world,  living  among  idolaters  of 
every  class,  and  often  cruelly  persecuted  for  their  at- 
tachment to  their  ancient  faith,  they  have  notwithstand- 
ing never  fallen  into  the  idolatry,  to  which  they  were 
once  so  prone,  and  are  at  this  very  hour  acknowledging 
no  other  God  but  the  living  Lord.  If  such  a  people 
then,  in  the  midst  of  such  heavy  judgments,  have  re- 
mained so  faithful  to  their  vows,  how  close,  how  con- 
stant, how  permanent  ought  that  union  to  be,  which 
exists  between  the  redeemed  sinner  and  his  God  !  And 
it  will  be  permanent,  brethren,  wherever  it  is  real.  He 
who  sincerely  devotes  himself  to  the  Lord,  and  is  once 
brought  within  the  bond  of  his  everlasting  covenant, 


himself  in  a  covenant  with  God.  387 

will  never  be  suffered  wholly  to  depart  from  him.  He 
may  be  prone  to  leave  him,  and  may  partially  forsake 
him  for  a  season  ;  but  by  his  Spirit  and  his  word,  by 
judgments  and  afflictions,  the  Lord  will  bring  back  his 
erring  servant,  remind  him  of  his  forgotten  vows,  and 
bind  him  by  the  bitterness  of  his  wanderings  more 
closely  to  his  throne.  "  This  shall  be  the  covenant, 
that  I  will  make  with  the  house  of  Israel,  saith  the 
Lord ;  I  will  put  my  law  in  their  inward  parts,  and 
write  it  in  their  hearts,  and  will  be  their  God,  and  they 
shall  be  my  people.  And  1  will  make  an  everlasting 
covenant  with  them,  that  I  will  not  turn  away  from 
them  to  do  them  good  ;  but  I  will  put  my  fear  in  their 
hearts,  that  they  shall  not  depart  from  me." 

The  subject,  which  has  thus  occupied  our  thoughts, 
is  calculated  to  afford  admonition  to  us  all.  It  calls 
upon  t/ioss,  who  have  already  joined  themselves  to  the 
Lord,  to  meditate  on  their  privileges,  and  to  seek  for 
a  more  enlarged  view  of  their  value  and  stability.  They 
are  more  precious  than  their  hearts  have  ever  yet  con- 
ceived, and  more  than  the  stars  of  heaven  in  multitude. 
They  are  secured  to  them  also  by  promises,  by  a  cove- 
jiant  and  oath,  which  leave  them  no  ground  for  appre- 
hension, no  room  for  despondency,  no  excuse  for 
unbelief. 

But  privileges,  brethren,  always  bring  duties  with 
them.  The  covenant,  which  assures  you  that  ail  the 
blessings  of  time  and  eternity  are  yours,  lays  you  under 
peculiar  obligations  to  cherish  the  liveliest  feelings  of 
thankfulness,  of  love,  of  submission,  of  the  most  entire 
devotedness  to  the  will  of  God.  You  are  bound  by 
your  own  vows,  as  well  as  by  the  exceeding  riches  of 
his  grace,  to  do  whatever  he  commands,  to  renounce 
whatever  he  forbids,  to  be  grateful  for  whatever  he  be- 


388  The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

stows,  to  be  content  whatever  he  may  withhold  from 
you,  and  submissive  whatever  he  may  take  away.  How 
have  these  obligations  been  fulfilled  ?  Look  back  to  the 
day,  in  which  you  first  joined  yourselves  to  God,  and 
enquire  whether  your  conduct  since  has  corresponded 
with  the  promises  and  resolutions  you  then  made.  O 
what  an  humbling  retrospect !  What  cause  have  you 
for  shame,  and  humiliation,  and  wonder !  And  why 
have  your  deficiences  been  so  many  and  so  great? 
Why  are  you  so  often  forced  to  mourn  over  your  sins, 
instead  of  rejoicing  in  your  mercies?  Because  you  have 
forgotten  that  you  are  the  Lord's.  Because  you  have 
regarded  yourselves  as  your  own,  instead  of  his  chosen 
heritage,  his  purchased  people,  his  covenanted  servants. 
Strive  then  to  forget  his  love  and  your  own  vows  no 
3-nore.  He  is  ever  mindful  of  his  covenant ;  be  you 
mindful  of  it  also.  In  every  hour  of  temptation,  in 
every  season  of  declension,  in  every  time  of  trouble, 
say  to  your  soul,  what  David  said  to  his,  "  O  my  soul, 
I  have  said  unto  the  Lord,  Thou  art  my  God." 

There  are  others  perhaps  among  us,  who  are  desirous 
of  join'mg  themselves  to  God.  They  have  tried  tht^  ser- 
vice of  sin,  and  have  found  in  it  nothing  but  disappoint- 
ment, vexation,  and  bitterness.  They  are  therefore 
anxious  to  renounce  it ;  indeed  they  have  already  re- 
nounced it,  and  are  determined  to  be  the  willing  slaves 
of  sin  no  more.  But  they  have  not  yet  given  themselves 
up  to  God.  Not  that  they  are  reluctant  to  forsake  the 
world,  or  unwilling  to  bear  the  reproach  of  Christ.  A 
sense  of  unworthiness  keeps  them  back.  In  their  pre- 
sent sinful  and  wretched  state,  they  dare  not  lay  hold  on 
his  covenant,  nor  take  to  his  altar  so  vile  an  offering  as 
their  broken  hearts.  But  is  not  your  unworthiness 
known  unto  God  ?   And  was  it  not  known  by  him  from 


himself  in  a  Covenant  with  God.         389 

everlasting  ?  And  yet  he  invites  you  in  his  word  to 
devote  yourselves  to  him,  and  promises  to  receive  and 
bless  you.  Polluted  and  desperately  wicked  as  he  sees 
you  to  be,  he  calls  you  by  the  endearing  name  of  sons, 
and  says  to  each  of  you  with  a  voice  of  the  tenderest 
mercy,  "  Give  me  thine  heart.  I  know  its  vileness.  I 
kaow  all  the  evil  which  has  defiled,  and  all  the  wicked- 
ness which  has  hardened  it.  1  have  seen  its  folly  in  the 
days  of  thy  childhood,  and  its  thoughtlessness  in  thy 
youth  ;  its  pride  in  thy  prosperity,  and  its  rebellion  in 
thine  affliction.  They  have  tried  my  patience  to  the 
uttermost,  and  I  remember  them  still.  But,  O  my  son, 
give  me  thine  heart.  Only  acknowledge  thine  iniquity, 
that  thou  hast  transgressed  against  me  ;  only  consent  to 
receive  pardon  at  my  hands  through  the  blood  of  the 
covenant ;  and  I  will  be  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  thee 
thy  sins,  and  to  cleanse  thee  from  all  unrighteousness. 
Thou  hast  made  me  to  serve  with  thy  sins,  and  wea- 
ried me  with  thine  iniquities  ;  but  I,  even  1,  am  he  that 
blotteth  out  thy  transgressions  for  mine  own  sake,  and 
will  not  remember  thy  sins.  Come  now  and  let  us  rea- 
son together ;  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall 
be  as  white  as  snow  ;  though  they  be  red  like  crimson, 
they  shall  be  as  wool.  Incline  your  ear  and  come  unto 
me  ;  hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live ;  and  I  will  make  an 
everlasting  covenant  with  you,  even  the  sure  mercies 
of  David." 

Others  among  us  may  have  broken  the  covenant  of  the 
Lord.  There  was  a  time,  when  they  appeared  to  be 
seeking  his  favour.  They  wept  as  they  thought  of  their 
sins  ;  their  hearts  were  affected  as  they  heard  of  his  love. 
They  openly  confessed  his  name,  and  went  up  to  the 
house  of  God  with  his  people  as  friends.  But  how  are 
they  changed  !    Their  eye  has  now  forgotten  to  weep, 


390  The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

and  their  heart  to  mourn.  The  cares  and  pleasures  of 
the  world  have  driven  the  remembrance  of  a  crucified 
Saviour  out  of  their  minds,  and  are  reigning  in  all  their 
former  power  over  their  souls.  Prayer  is  neglected,  the 
Bible  is  seldom  searched,  ordinances  are  slighted,  hea- 
ven is  no  longer  desired  nor  hell  dreaded.  They  have 
still  perhaps  a  name  to  live,  but  in  the  sight  of  God 
they  arc  dead. 

Your  situation,  brethren,  is  most  perilous.  There  is 
more  hope  of  the  thoughtless  sabbath- breaker,  the  dis- 
sipated trifier,  the  drunkard,  than  of  you.  The  convic- 
tions you  have  stifled  have  hardened  your  hearts;  the 
despite  you  have  done  to  the  Spirit  of  grace  has  caused 
him  to  abandon  you  to  a  fearful  insensibility  ;  the  vows 
you  have  broken  and  forgotten  are  all  registered  in  hea- 
ven, and  have  a  vengeance  connected  with  them,  which 
is  ready  to  burst  upon  your  heads. 

And  dare  you,  in  such  a  situation  as  this,  talk  of 
the  everlasting  covenant  of  grace,  and  harbour  the  pre- 
sumptuous hope  that  so  holy  a  covenant  can  insure 
the  salvation  of  a  proud,  worldly-minded,  sensual  de- 
spiser  of  the  Lord  ?  Then  listen  to  the  solemn  decla- 
rations of  the  Spirit;  "The  just  shall  live  by  faith, 
but  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall  have  no 
pleasure  in  him.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God,  As  1  live, 
surely  mine  oath  that  he  hath  despised,  and  my  cove- 
nant that  he  hath  broken,  even  it  will  I  recompense 
upon  his  own  head.  It  is  impossible  for  those,  who 
were  once  enlightened,  and  have  tasted  of  the  heavenly 
gift,  and  were  made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers  of 
the  world  to  come,  if  they  shall  fall  away,  to  renew 
them  again  unto  repentance ;  seeing  they  crucify  to 


himself  in  a  Covenant  with  God.         391 

themselves  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put  him  to  an 
open  shame." 

But  even  while  these  awful  sayings  are  sounding  in 
your  ears  ;  sayings,  which  seem  to  close  for  ever  the 
door  of  mercy ;  ue  are  warranted  to  hold  out  to  }ou 
an  offer  of  pardon.  Though  even  in  your  best  days  you 
lied  unto  God  with  your  tongues,  your  heart  was  not 
right  with  him,  neither  were  you  stedfast  in  his  cove- 
nant; and  though  you  have  since  incurred  a  guilt,  which 
the  ansrels  who  are  accursed  for  ever  never  knew,  vet 
if  you  tear  out  of  your  heart  your  bold  presumption, 
smite  upon  your  breast,  and  lift  up  a  prayer  for  nrvercy, 
the  blood,  on  which  you  have  trampled,  will  cleanse 
you  from  all  your  sins,  even  from  the  sins,  which  have 
dishonoured  him  who  shed  it ;  the  Spirit,  whom  you 
have  grieved,  will  take  up  his  abode  in  your  hearts, 
soften,  purify,  and  heal  them ;  the  God,  whom  you 
have  forsaken,  will  receive  you  to  his  favour,  and  in 
the  end  to  his  kingdom,  his  house,  and  his  arms.  '*  A 
voice,"  says  the  prophet,  "  was  heard  upon  the  high- 
places,  weeping  and  supplications  of  the  children  of 
Israel ;  for  they  have  perverted  their  \vay,  and  they 
have  forgotten  the  Lord  their  God."  And  what  is  the 
message,  which  is  sent  to  this  mourning  people  ? 
•'  Return,  thou  backsliding  Israel,  saith  the  Lord,  and 
I  will  heal  your  backslidings ;  and  I  will  not  cause 
mine  anger  to  fall  upon  you  ;  for  I  am  merciful,  saith 
the  Lord,  and  i  will  not  keep  anger  for  ever." 

But  there  is  yet  another  and  a  more  numerous  class 
of  persons  among  us — they  who  have  never  joined 
themselves  to  the  Lord^  and  never  thought  of  his  cove-^ 
nant.  It  may  be  true,  brethren,  that  the  guilt  of  apo^ 
Stacy  rests  not  on  your  head ;  that  you  have  never  been 


393  The  Redeemed  Sinner  joining 

hypocritical  professors  of  religion,  and  never  broken 
the  vows,  which  you  have  vowed  unto  the  Lord.  You 
may  have  this  ground  for  boasting ;  but  O  what  a 
dreadful  boast!  To  have  lived  all  your  days  upon 
the  bounty  of  God,  and  yet  never  to  have  even  pro- 
fessed to  love  him  I  To  have  heard  year  after  year  the 
invitations  of  his  grace,  and  yet  to  have  never  thought 
of  accepting  them  !  To  know  that  there  is  a  God  of 
inhnite  power  and  goodness,  and  to  have  no  connection 
with  him,  no  access  to  him,  no  desire  of  his  favour, 
«o  fear  of  his  vengeance  !  If  a  dying  sinner  can  glory 
in  folly  such  as  this,  who  does  not  wonder  and  trem- 
ble ?  In  what  will  this  madness  end  ?  The  day  of 
judgment  will  show.  In  that  great  and  terrible  day, 
the  Lord  God  Almighty  will  vindicate  his  claim  to  the 
creatures,  whom  his  hands  have  made  ;  will  assert  his 
despised  authority  ;  will  force  the  haughtiest  to  hum- 
ble themselves  before  him,  and  the  proudest  to  lick 
the  dust.  And  what  will  your  vain  boasting  avail  you 
then,  and  what  your  carelessness  profit  you  ?  No 
more  than  his  former  songs  of  mirth  avail  the  mari- 
ner, whose  vessel  is  sinking  in  ihe  waves  ;  or  the 
slumbers  of  midnight  profit  the  man,  whose  habitation 
is  in  flames. 

Acknowledge  then  the  Lord  to  be  your  God.  By 
an  immediate  surrender  of  yourselves  to  his  authority, 
and  an  humble  appeal  to  his  mercy  in  Christ  Jesus, 
escape  the  wrath  to  come  ;  lay  hold  of  his  great  sal- 
vation ;  obtain  an  interest  in  his  love.  Come  ye,  who 
are  afar  off,  and  by  that  new  and  living  way  which  he 
has  opened,  draw  nigh  unto  the  Lord.  Come  ye,  who 
have  forsaken  him,  and  taste  again  that  he  is  gracious. 
Come  ye,  who  are  enquiring  after  him  weeping,  and 


himself  in  a  Ccwejiant  with  God.         393 

dare  to  hope  in  his  mercy.  Come  ye,  who  have  found 
him,  and  renew  your  covenant  with  him.  Come,  and 
let  us  all  seek  the  same  Lord,  ask  the  way  to  the  same 
Zion,  share  the  same  griefs,  sing  the  same  songs,  bear 
the  same  cross,  glory  in  the  same  reproach,  and  bind 
ourselves  as  a  living  sacrifice  to  the  horns  of  the  altar 
of  the  same  God. 


3  D 


SERMON  XXV. 


THE  WAY  TO  ZION. 


ISAIAH  XXXV.  8,  9,   10. 

.^nd  en  liighnvay  shall  be  there,  and  a  ivay,  and  it  shall  be  culled  "  The 
way  qfholini'ss.'"  The  unclean  shall  not  fiass  over  it,  but  it  shall  he 
for  those.  The  wayfaring  men,  though  fools,  shall  not  err  therein. 
JVb  lion  shall  be  there,  nor  any  ravenous  beast  shall  go  uji  thereon  ; 
it  shall  not  be  found  there  :  but  the  redeemed  shall  walk  there.  And 
the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion,  with  songs 
a7id  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads;  they  shall  obtaai  joy  and 
glachicss,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall Jlee  away. 

J-  HE  chapter,  of  which  these  words  are  a  part,  testifies 
of  Christ.  The  prophet,  while  foretelling  in  it  the  re- 
turn of  the  Jews  from  their  captivity  in  Babylon,  is 
enabled  to  look  forward  to  a  more  spiritual  and  much 
greater  deliverance.  With  the  eye  of  faith  he  sees  the 
kingdom  of  the  Messiah  established  in  the  earth  ;  and, 
calling  to  his  aid  the  most  glowing  and  expressive 
figures  which  nature  can  supply,  he  describes  the  future 
blessedness  and  glory  of  the  church  under  his  reign. 
His  gospel  is  represented  as  making  glad  the  wilderness 
and  the  solitary  place,  causing  the  desert  to  rejoice  and 
blossom  as  the  rose,  and  covering  it  with  the  verdure 
and  towering  cedars  of  Lebanon,  Carmel,  and  Sharon. 
He  comes  and  publishes  salvation,  and  the  eyes  of  the 
blind  are  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  ar6  unstopped  ; 
the  lame  man  leaps  as  a  hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the 
dumb  sings.  He  pours  out  his  Spirit  from  on  high, 
and  then  waters   break   out  in  the   wilderness,    and 


The  Way  to  Zlon.  395 

streams  in  the  desert ;  the  parched  ground  becomes  a 
pool,  and  the  thirsty  land  springs  of  water.  And  what 
follows  ?  In  the  midst  of  this  once  dreary  but  now  re- 
joicing scene,  he  casts  up  a  high- way  ;  he  opens  a  new 
and  blessed  road,  by  which  a  multitude  of  the  enslaved 
and  perishing  save  themselves  from  their  miseries,  and 
are  led  to  his  kingdom  and  his  throne. 

Viewing  this  prophecy  therefore  as  a  description  of 
the  method  of  salvation  through  the  atoning  sufferings, 
and  justifying  righteousness,  and  regenerating  grace  of 
Christ,  it  calls  upon  us  to  consider,  j^rj?,  the  travellers, 
of  whom  it  speaks;  secondly^  the  way,  along  which  they 
are  journeying;  and,  thirdly,  the  home,  to  which  it  is 
leading  them. 

I.  1.  The  travellers,  who  are  described  as  walking  in 
this  way  of  holiness,  were  once  journeying  along  a  very 
different  path.  They  are  called;  "  the  redeemed,"  and 
the  term  implies  that  they  were  once  in  boiidage,  at 
least  that  they  were  in  a  state  of  degradation  and 
wretchedness.  And  this,  brethren,  is  the  natural  condi- 
tion of  us  all.  We  were  created  free  and  happy,  free  as 
the  angels  in  heaven,  and  we  might  have  been  as 
blessed.  We  had  but  one  Lord,  and  he  was  our  owa 
Father,  the  most  exalted  and  gracious  of  lords,  whom  it 
was  our  highest  honour  to  obey,  and  whose  service 
was  perfect  freedom.  We  dwelt  in  his  presence,  and 
shared  his  friendship,  and  were  crowned  with  the  gifts 
of  his  love.  But  man  forfeited  his  liberty  and  his  ho- 
nour. He  entered  into  the  service  of  sin,  and  sin  threw 
its  filthy  chains  around  him,  polluted  his  nature,  de- 
based his  affections,  made  him  the  slave  of  its  unclean 
prince,  brought  him  under  the  power  of  death,  and 
drew  down  on  him  the  curse  of  God.  It  entirely  ruined 
him,  and  with  him  all  his  race.  Among  the  many  mil- 


i390  The  Way  to  Zion. 

lions  of  his  offspring,  not  one  has  been  found,  except 
the  holy  Jesus,  who  has  not  been  carnal,  sold  under 
sin,  serving  divers  lusts  and  pleasures,  led  captive  by 
Satan  at  his  will,  and  made  subject  to  vanity,  death, 
and  condemnation. 

2.  But  these  travellers  to  Zion  have  been  delivered 
from  this  state  of  bondage ;  they  have  been  redeemed. 

Their  forsaken  Lord  sent  to  them  in  their  misery  a 
proclamation  of  freedom,  and  invited  them  to  be  re- 
conciled to  him,  and  regain  the  blessedness  they  had 
lost.  They  obeyed  the  call,  and  are  free.  The  guilt 
of  their  transgressions  has  been  blotted  out,  and  the 
chain  of  their  sins  broken.  They  are  again  the  servants 
of  God,  and  no  power  on  earth  or  in  hell  can  ever  re- 
take them  out  of  his  hands.  Not  that  their  deliverance 
is  at  present  complete.  They  have  escaped  from  Baby- 
lon, but  they  are  yet  far  off  from  Jerusalem.  They  are 
however  walking  in  the  path,  which  leads  to  it,  and 
they  shall  hold  on  their  way,  and  go  from  strength  to 
strength,  till  every  one  of  them  in  Zion  appears  be- 
fore God. 

But  how  were  these  travellers  redeemed  ?  By  an 
effort  of  their  own  power  ?  Alas,  brethren,  we  are  no 
more  able  to  purify  our  own  hearts,  or  to  avert  from 
our  heads  the  wrath  of  God,  than  the  Ethiopian  is  to 
change  his  skin,  or  the  worm  to  throw  from  its  body 
the  rock  which  is  crushing  it.  We  owe  our  deliverance 
to  another,  and  the  prophet  intimates  to  us  in  the  text 
the  manner,  in  which  this  deliverance  was  effected. 

3.  There  are  three  ways  of  redeeming  a  captive,  by 
exchange,  by  a  forcible  rescue,  or  by  ransom.  It  is  by 
the  last  of  these  that  the  people  of  God  are  here  said  to 
have  been  liberated.  They  are  called  "  the  ransomed 
of  the  Lord  :"  they  xvere  delivered  from  their  bondage 


The  Way  to  Zion,  397 

by  a  price  paid  by  God  himself  for  their  redemption. 
And  what  was  this  price  ?  The  Scriptures  tell  us.  '^  Ye 
were  not  redeemed,"  says  Saint  Peter,  "  with  corrupti- 
ble things  as  silver  and  gold ;  but  with  the  precious 
blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and 
without  spot. "  And  Saint  Paul  uses  the  same  language. 
Speaking  of  Jesus,  he  says  that  "he  gave  himself  a 
ransom,"  for  sinners,  and  that  "  we  have  redemption 
through  his  blood."  The  meaning  of  the  metaphor  is 
obvious.  By  the  sacrifice  of  himself  upon  the  cross, 
Christ  so  magnified  the  law  and  honoured  the  justice 
of  his  Father,  that  mercy  can  now  be  extended  to  the 
sinner,  and  yet  the  veracity  of  the  great  Governor  of 
the  world  remain  unimpeached,  and  his  glory  unsullied. 
Leaving  the  habitation  of  his  greatness,  the  eternal  Son 
of  Jehovah  took  on  him  the  form  of  his  ruined  people, 
put  himself  in  their  place,  and  bore  the  vengeance 
which  was  ready  to  burst  on  their  heads.  "  He  made 
his  own  soul  an  offering  for  their  sin,  and  redeemed 
them  from  the  curse  cf  the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for 
them."  Thus  the  demands  of  the  law  were  fully  satis- 
fied, the  ends  of  justice  attained;  and  the  criminal,  on 
his  appealing  to  this  finished  work  of  his  Surety,  and 
the  mercy  of  his  Judge,  is  consequently  pardoned.  The 
captive  is  set  free.  The  blessed  God  recovers  his  lost 
servant  from  the  tyranny  of  sin  and  the  arrest  of  justice, 
takes  him  again  into  his  family,  and,  like  the  father  of 
the  returning  prodigal,  he  rejoices  over  him  and  is  glad, 
for  this  his  son  was  dead  and  is  alive  again,  he  was  lost 
and  is  found. 

This,  brethren,  is  the  way,  the  only  way,  by  which 
a  sinner  can  obtain  pardon  and  salvation.  All  the  saints, 
who  are  now  rejoicing  in  glory,  are  indebted  to  the 
precious  blood  of  Jesus  for  every  moment  of  their  hap- 


398  The  Way  to  Zioii. 

piness;  and  all,  who  in  future  ages  will  be  taken  from 
the  world  to  be  added  to  their  number,  will  owe  their 
redemption  to  the  same  crucified  Saviour,  and  acknow- 
ledge him  in  their  everlasting  anthems  as  the  only  Re- 
deemer of  their  souls. 

The  prophet  speaks  of  this  way  of  salvation  in  the 
text,  and  describes  it  under  the  figure  of  a  highway  or 
road,  along  which  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  are  travel- 
ling to  Zion. 

II.  1.  In  proceeding  therefore  to  consider  the  striking 
description,  which  he  has  given  us  of  this  path  to  hea- 
ven, we  may  observe,  first,  that  it  is  a  safe  way  ;  a 
way,  which  not  only  leads  the  Christian  pilgrim  to 
his  desired  home,  but  in  which  he  may  walk  without 
danger. 

This  is  an  important  point  for  every  traveller  to 
ascertain.  It  is  important  in  our  own  country,  where 
there  are  no  ferocious  animals  lying  in  wait  to  destroy  ; 
but  it  was  peculiarly  iaiportdut  in  Judea.  The  banks 
of  the  rivers,  which  flowed  through  this  country,  are 
said  to  have  been  infested  with  lions  and  other  beasts 
of  prey,  which  frequently  rushed  from  their  places  of 
concealment  upon  the  passing  traveller,  and  rendered 
the  roads  in  some  parts  of  the  land  exceedingly  dan- 
gerous. Hence  the  prophet  says  of  the  way  to  heaven 
through  Christ,  that  "  no  lion  shall  be  there,  nor  any 
ravenous  beast  shall  go  up  thereon  ;  it  shall  not  be 
found  there." 

Not  that  we  are  to  conclude  that  the  redeemed  have 
no  foes  to  combat,  and  no  difliculties  to  surmount  in 
their  course.  Like  the  Israelites  returning  from  Baby- 
lon, they  have  to  pass  through  an  enemy's  country  in 
their  journey  to  Zion  ;  their  way  is  beset  with  innu- 
merable adversaries,  and  with  many  and  great  dangers. 


The  Way  to  Zion.  399 

The  world  and  the  devil  are  continually  striving  to 
harass,  plunder,  and  destroy  them  ;  and  their  own  evil 
hearts  are  hourly  tempting  them  to  wander  and  forsake 
their  God.  But  he,  who  has  redeemed  them,  accompa- 
nies them  in  their  pilgrimage  ;  and  though  they  are 
called  on  to  struggle  and  fight,  he  gives  them  the  vic- 
tory ;  and  renders  their  path  as  safe,  as  though  there 
were  no  dangers  near  it,  nor  any  to  hurt  or  destroy. 
He,  strengthens  them  when  they  are  weak,  refreshes 
them  when  weary,  and  reclaims  them  when  wandering. 
He  so  keeps  them  by  the  power  of  God,  that  among 
the  multitudes,  who  have  sought  to  obtain  access  to 
the  Father  through  him,  not  one  feeble  sinner  has 
perished,  or  failed  to  obtain  the  salvation  of  his  soul. 

2.  But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  if  the  way  to  heaven 
be  thus  safe  ?  Is  it  a  plain  way  ;  a  road  which  can  be 
easily  found  ?  The  text  tells  us  that  it  is  exceedingly 
plain^  so  plain  that  "  the  wayfaring  men,  though  fools, 
shall  not  err  therein." 

It  is  an  unspeakable  blessing,  brethren,  that  the  plan 
of  redemption  through  a  crucified  Saviour,  requires  no 
depth  of  learning  nor  great  powers  of  mind  to  compre- 
hend it.  A  child  may  become  acquainted  with  it ;  and 
many  of  the  most  unlearned  have  so  studied  it,  as  to 
become  wise  unto  salvation.  They  indeed,  who  are  not 
wayfaring  men,  who  study  the  gospel  as  a  subject  of 
cold  speculation  merely,  will  never  rightly  understand 
it;  after  all  their  enquiries  it  will  baffle  and  perplex 
them ;  while  he,  who  in  good  earnest  applies  to  God 
for  instruction,  and  is  sincere  and  in  earnest  in  seeking 
salvation,  though  he  be  utterly  destitute  of  all  that  the 
world  calls  wisdom,  will  discover  a  simplicity  in  the 
gospel,  a  suitableness  and  glory,  which  will  astonish 
and  delight  his  soul.     Let  a  man  once  draw  near  the 


400  The  Way  to  Zion. 

way  of  life,  and  the  cloud,  which  before  appeared  to 
bewilder  and  darken  it,  is  rolled  away  ;  darkness  is 
made  light  before  him,  and  crooked  things  straight, 
and  the  rough  places  plain.  He  may  still  be  liable  to  err, 
and  may  actually  fall  into  many  mistakes;  he  may  have 
yet  much  to  learn ;  he  may  be  brought  into  scenes  of 
perplexity,  in  which  the  path  of  duty  and  safety  may 
be  hidden  for  a  season  from  his  view ;  but  he  has  a 
guide,  who  is  mindful  of  his  ignorance,  and  can  feel 
for  him  in  his  difficulties,  and  has  pledged  himself  to 
uphold  him  in  his  goings,  and  to  lead  him  in  the  paths 
of  righteousness  for  his  names'  sake.  "  Behold  I  send 
an  angel  before  thee,"  is  the  language  of  his  God,  "  to 
keep  thee  in  the  way,  and  to  bring  thee  into  the  place 
which  I  have  prepared  for  thee.  Beware  of  him,  and 
obey  his  voice." 

3.  But  here  another  enquiry  arises.  Has  not  this 
plan  of  salvation  a  tendency  to  encourage  licentious- 
ness ?  And  are  not  those,  who  have  embraced  it,  the 
practical  opponents  of  good  works?  What  is  their 
moral  character  ?  Their  character,  brethren,  is  that  of 
men,  who  know  that  they  have  been  bought  with  a 
price  for  this  very  purpose,  that  they  should  glorify 
God  ;  of  men,  who  are  actually  become  a  purified  and 
peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good  works.  The  way,  in 
which  they  are  seeking  heaven,  is  a  pure,  a  holy  way. 
"  It  shall  be  called,"  says  the  prophet,  "■  the  way  of  ho- 
liness. The  unclean  shall  not  pass  over  it ;  but  it  shall 
be  for  those,"  for  those  spoken  of  in  the  preceding  part 
of  the  chapter,  whose  eyes  have  been  opened  to  see  the 
v  holiness  of  God,  and  whose  tongues  have  been  loosened 
to  sing  his  praise,  and  whose  souls  have  been  cleansed 
in  the  fountain,  which  he  has  opened  for  sin  and  un- 
cleanness. 


The  Way  to  Zion.  40 1 

And  what  other  men  could  be  prevailed  on  to  walk 
in  such  a  way  as  this?  From  the  beginning  to  the  end 
of  it,  there  is  nothing  to  allure  a  trifling  or  to  gratify  a 
sinful  mind.  Not  one  sensual  gratification  can  be  found 
in  it.  No  gay  and  worldly  society,  no  childish  amuse- 
ments, no  song  nor  dance,  enliven  its  borders ;  and  as 
for  rioting  and  drunkenness,  chambering  and  wanton- 
ness, they  are  not  so  much  as  named  along  its  path. 
Some,  indeed,  who  profess  to  have  entered  it,  have 
continued  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God  ; 
but  they  are  either  deceiving  themselves  or  striving  to 
deceive  others.  In  either  case  "  destruction  and  misery- 
are  in  their  paths,  and  the  way  of  peace  have  they  not 
known."  It  is  true  also  that  they,  who  are  really  travel- 
ling along  this  road,  were  once  ungodly;  but  no  sooner 
did  they  enter  in  at  its  strait  gate  and  tread  on  its  sa- 
cred ground,  than  they  began  to  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness,  to  cultivate  purity  of  heart,  and  to  emu- 
late the  holiness  of  the  prophets,  apostles,  and  saints, 
who  have  gone  before  them.  Yea,  brethren,  while  ani 
ignorant  world  is  accusing  them  of  undervaluing  good 
works  and  loving  iniquity,  there  is  not  one  among  them, 
who  would  not  consent  to  endure  any  tribulation  or  to 
make  any  sacrifice,  so  that  he  might  be  a  partaker  of 
the  holiness  of  the  Lord,  be  holy  as  he  is  holy,  and  per- 
fect as  he  is  perfect. 

4.  There  is  one  question  more  still  remaining  to  be 
answered.  Though  the  road,  in  which  we  are  invited 
to  travel,  be  thus  safe,  plain,  and  pure,  is  it  not  dreary 
and  cheerless  ;  and  must  we  not,  as  we  enter  it,  bid  a 
long  farewell  to  happiness  and  joy  ?  The  prophet  an- 
swers this  enquiry  also,  and  tells  us  that  the  way  of 
salvation  through  a  crucified  Jesus  is  a  pleasant  way,  a 
way  of  peculiar  pleasantness,  and  a  path  of  never-ending 

3    F 


402J  The  Way  to  Zion, 

peace.  ^'  The  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and 
come  to  Zion,  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon 
their  heads." 

There  may  probably  be  an  allusion  in  this  expression, 
to  the  ancient  custom  of  wearing  crowns  or  chaplets  of 
flowers  in  seasons  of  peculiar  rejoicing  ;  or  it  may  per- 
haps refer  to  the  practice  of  anointing  the  head  with  oil 
on  festive  occasions.  In  either  case  its  meaning  is  the 
same.  It  declares  a  truth,  which  many  of  us  are  very 
unwilling  to  believe,  that  the  self-denying,  decided, 
and  heavenly-minded  Christian,  so  far  from  being  of 
all  men  the  most  miserable,  is  of  all  men  the  most 
happy,  yea,  the  only  happy  man.  It  is  true  that  he  is 
represented  in  Scripture  as  seeking  heaven  weeping, 
and  arriving  thither  through  a  path  of  great  tribulation  ; 
but  then,  brethren  in  the  midst  of  his  tears,  in  the  depth 
of  his  tribulation,  he  has  a  peace  hid  in  his  heart,  which 
all  the  joys  of  the  world  could  not  purchase  of  him. 
Go  to  him,  you  who  affect  to  pity,  and  are  so  ready  to 
censure  him  ;  ask  him,  when  most  afflicted  and  cast 
down,  whether  his  religion  has  left  him  wretched  and 
comfortless;  and  what  is  his  answer?  He  will  tell  you 
that  he  would  not  exchange  his  most  sorrowful  hour 
for  your  happiest  day ;  that  he  has  habitually  within  his 
afflicted  soul,  consolations  which  are  more  than  earthly, 
that  he  has  sometimes  a  joy,  which  is  indeed  divine ;  a 
joy  rational  and  sober,  and  yet  so  elevated  and  sweet, 
that  it  brings  into  his  heart  a  foretaste  of  heaven.  The 
worldly-minded  indeed  are  not  without  their  joys.  You 
have  your  pleasures  ;  but  you  need  not  be  told  how- 
unsatisfying  they  are  ;  with  what  a  feeling  of  degrada- 
tion they  are  olten  accompanied,  and  by  how  many 
pangs  they  are  sometimes  followed.  And  what  if  the 
pleasures  of  sin  were  great  and  unmixed "?  They  would 


The  Way  to  Zion,  403 

soon  come  to  an  end,  for  death  and  the  grave  destroy 
them  for  ever.  But  death  cannot  destroy  the  joy  of  the 
Christian.  It  is  an  everlasting  joy,  imperishable  as  his 
soul.  The  same  song  which  he  is  singing  now,  his  en- 
raptured lips  will  soon  pour  forth  in  the  courts  of  Zion 
before  God,  and  it  shall  be  sweet  as  the  song  of  angels, 
and  lasting  as  eternity. 

We  might  now  attempt  to  follow  the  Christian  pil- 
grim beyond  the  grave,  and  take  a  distant  view  of  the 
home,  to  which  the  blessed  path  is  leading  him  ;  but 
reserving  this  for  the  subject  of  a  future  meditation,  let 
us  endeavour  to  impress  upon  our  minds  a  sense  of  our 
own  personal  and  intimate  concern  in  the  prophecy  be- 
fore us.  We  are  the  inhabitants  of  the  wilderness,  of 
which  it  speaks.  We  are  living  in  a  world  overspread 
with  desolation,  so  entirely  destitute  of  all  spiritual  sup- 
plies, that  though  millions  have  been  for  ages  anxiously 
exploring  it,  it  has  never  been  able  to  satisfy  the  desires 
of  one  thirsty  soul.  But  waters  have  at  length  broken 
out  in  this  wilderness,  and  the  most  abundant  streams 
are  now  flowing  through  it.  God  has  sent  his  own  Son 
from  heaven  to  discover  to  us  a  way,  which  affords  to 
all  who  enter  it  provision  and  safety,  and  which  will 
conduct  them  in  the  end  out  of  all  their  miseries  to  a 
kingdom  of  happiness.  Now  are  we  walking  in  this 
way  ?  Have  we  embraced  the  salvation  disclosed  to  us 
in  the  gospel  ?  There  is  reason  to  hope  that  some  of  us 
have  embraced  it.  Though  fearlul  and  trembling,  and 
weighed  down  at  seasons  with  many  sorrows,  we  arc 
asking  the  way  to  Zion  and  journeying  towards  it ;  we 
are  daily  seeking  redemption  through  the  blood  of  Je- 
sus, and  are  manifesting  by  our  conduct  that  we  count 
all  things  but  loss  so  that  we  may  win  Christ  and  be 
foun(J  in  him.  To  such  the  text  speaks  the  language  of 


404  The  Way  to  Zioii. 

encouragemeiit.  Indeed  the  view  of  religion,  which  is 
here  afforded  them  is  peculiarly  encouraging.  It  may 
not  on  the  first  view  appear  to  the  humble  penitent  in 
this  light.  It  tells  him  perhaps  of  a  gladness,  which  he 
has  never  experienced ;  and  of  a  song,  which  he  has 
never  sung.  Like  many  other  young  disciples,  he  may 
attach  an  undue  degree  of  importance  to  religious  joy, 
and  because  he  has  never  tasted,  or  has  ceased  to  taste 
the  happiness,  which  he  deems  inseparably  connected 
with  true  piety,  he  is  prone  to  deem  himself  an  utter 
stranger  to  the  way  of  peace.  Hence  it  often  happens 
that  he  hears  of  the  pleasures  of  religion  with  disquie- 
tude,  rather  than  with  delight.  He  can  comprehend 
something  of  their  nature  ;  he  listens  with  eagerness  to 
the  voice  which  speaks  of  them  ;  and,  as  he  listens,  his 
heart  is  sometimes  affected  and  begins  to  glow  with  the 
liveliest  desires  and  feelings  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  these 
rising  emotions,  he  remembers  that  the  joy,  of  which 
he  is  hearing,  has  no  place  in  his  own  breast,  and  the 
very  Scripture  or  sermon,  which  was  designed  to  ani- 
mate him  in  his  course,  perplexes  and  dispirits  him. 

Now  the  text  before  us  is  well  calculated  to  instruct 
and  cheer  such  a  mourner  as  this.  It  speaks  to  you  of 
holiness,  guidance,  and  safety ;  and  it  promises  you 
these  blessings  at  your  entrance  on  the  way  to  heaven. 
Believe  this  promise  and  confide  in  it.  It  speaks  also  of 
joy  and  gladness ;  but  in  what  part  of  the  road  does  it 
promise  to  crown  you  with  songs,  with  the  highest  con- 
solaiions  and  richest  joys  of  the  gospel  ?  Not  till  you 
are  far  advanced  in  your  pilgrimage,  and  are  drawing 
near  the  abode  of  your  rest.  The  ransomed  Israelites 
are  repeatedly  described  in  other  places  as  bciting  out 
on  their  journey  to  Jerusalem  weeping,  as  prosecuting 
it  weeping,  and  not  a  word  is  said  here  of  their  songs 


The  Way  to  Zion.  405 

till  they  are  almost  entering  Zion.  The  lessons  you 
have  to  learn  are  plain.  Cease  to  make  spiritual  joy  a 
test  of  your  sincerity.  Cease  to  be  disquieted,  if  you  are 
for  a  season  destitute  of  it.  Resolve  to  wait  for  it  more 
patiently,  and  to  seek  it  more  earnestly  in  the  only  way 
in  which  it  can  be  found,  the  way  of  holiness.  Have 
you  a  broken  and  contrite  heart?  Are  you  really  seek- 
ing mercy  as  sinners  through  the  atoning  blood  of  a 
crucified  Saviour  ?  Are  you  living  a  life  of  faith  on  the 
Son  of  God,  praying  to  him,  loving  him,  obeying  him, 
bearing  contentedly  his  cross  ?  Then  be  not  discou- 
raged. ''  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light, 
that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day.  Light 
is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and  gladness  for  the  upright 
in  heart."  Your  present  conflicts  and  sorrows,  your 
struggles  with  temptation,  your  humbling  discoveries 
of  your  manifold  corruptions,  have  all  a  blessedness 
connected  with  them.  They  are  working  out  for  you 
many  an  hour  of  -happiness  on  this  side  of  the  grave, 
and  an  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  beyond  it. 
Only  keep  close  to  your  redeeming  Saviour ;  follow 
the  Lord  fully,  and  trust  in  him  stedfastly ;  and  you 
will  grow  in  peace  as  you  grow  in  years.  The  months, 
as  they  roll  over  you,  will  leave  you  happier  than  they 
find  you,  and  every  hour  that  flies  will  carry  you  nearer 
to  your  wished-for  home  ;  to  that  Zion,  in  which  no 
sorrowful  sigh  has  ever  yet  been  heaved  nor  tear  shed  ; 
to  that  Christ,  who  is  all  your  salvation  and  all  your 
desire  ;  to  that  God,  in  whose  presence  is  the  fulness 
of  joy,  and  at  whose  right  hand  are  pleasures  for 
evermore. 

But  while  the  text  is  calculated  to  afford  encourage- 
ment to  some  of  us,  it  offers  direction  to  all.  Are  vvc 
groaning  under  the  slavery  of  sin,  and  enquiring  with 


406  The  Way  to  Zioiu 

trembling  solicitude  how  we  may  be  saved  from  it? 
.Are  we  contemplating  with  fear  the  dangers  which 
surround  us,  anxious  to  learn  how  creatures  so  weak 
may  surmount  difliculties  so  great,  and  triumph  over 
enemies  so  mighty  ?  Conscious  of  our  extreme  igno- 
rance, are  we  seeking  spiritual  knowledge  ?  Haling 
the  defilement  of  sin,  weary  and  ashamed  of  it,  are 
we  thirsting  for  holiness?  Fainting  under  the  calami^ 
ties  of  life,  and  unable  to  bear  its  sorrows,  are  wc 
looking  around  in  our  wretchedness  for  support  and 
consolation  ?  in  short,  is  there  a  single  evil  which 
Ave  wish  to  escape,  or  one  real  good  which  we  desire 
to  attain?  The  prophet  directs  us  all  to  the  same 
almighty  Friend.  lie  bids  us  seek  in  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  the  mercies  we  need,  and  assures  us  that  in  that 
gospel  we  may  obtain  them.  Let  us  believe  and  obey 
him.  Instead  of  wearying  ourselves  in  the  pursuit 
of  holiness  and  peace  by  efforts,  which  our  own  ex- 
perience has  proved  to  be  fruitless  as  well  as  harass- 
ing ;  instead  of  spending  our  money  for  that  which  is 
not  bread,  and  our  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not ; 
let  this  be  our  first  concern  ;  to  believe  aright  in  the 
crucified  Jesus  ;  to  make  a  real  and  spiritual  applica- 
tion to  him  for  the  salvation,  which  he  shed  his  blood 
to  procure.  Let  us  begin  with  this.  It  may  appear 
to  us  a  strange  way  to  the  attainment  of  the  blessing 
we  desire,  but  it  is  the  way  of  God's  appointment, 
and  the  only  way  in  which  we  can  succeed.  The  di- 
vine goodness  can  be  exercised  towards  sinners  only 
through  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus,  and  he  who  would  be 
saved,  cleansed,  or  refreshed  by  its  streams,  must 
wait  as  a  contrite  and  believing  suppliant  at  his  cross. 
It  is  there  that  tiie  waters  of  salvation  flow,  and  the 
fountain  of  life  stands  open.    It  is  there  that  the  guilty 


The  Way  to  Zion.  407 

are  pardoned,  and  the  ungodly  sanctified.  There  the 
ignorant  are  instructed,  and  the  weak  strengthened ; 
there  the  tempted  are  enabled  to  conquer,  and  the 
fearful  to  hope ;  there  the  weary  and  heavy  laden  tirst 
learn  what  is  meant  by  rest,  and  there  the  afflicted  first 
taste  of  a  blessedness,  which  elevates  them  above  their 
sorrows,  and  causes  them  to  forget  their  poverty,  and 
remember  their  misery  no  more. 


SERMON  XXVI. 


THE  HEAVENLY  ZION 


ISAIAH  XXXV.   10. 

The  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion,  ivith  sojigs 
and  everlasting  joy  upon  thtir  heads;  they  shall  obtain  joy  and 
gladJiess,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall Jlee  aivay. 


1  HESE  rejoicing  travellers  were  once  miserable  cap- 
tives, in  bondage  to  Satan  and  enslaved  by  sin.  But 
Christ,  by  paying  for  tliem  the  ransom  of  his  blood, 
set  the  prisoners  free,  and  made  them  the  beloved  chil- 
dren of  God,  and  the  heirs  of  heaven. 

The  method  of  salvation,  to  which  they  owe  their  de- 
liverance, is  spoken  of  in  the  verses  preceding  the  text 
as  a  highway,  a  plain  and  elevated  road  opened  in  the 
midst  of  a  desolate  wilderness,  and  affording  to  all  who 
enter  it  security  and  peace.  It  is  not,  however,  the 
safety  nor  the  pleasantness  of  a  path,  which  will  induce 
a  traveller  to  walk  in  it.  It  must  conduct  him  to  the 
place,  at  which  he  wishes  to  arrive.  The  prophet  there- 
fore  carries  on  the  metaphor  farther,  and  describes  this 
highway  as  leading  to  a  most  blessed  home  ;  to  a 
mountain  where  sorrow  and  sighing  are  unknown,  and 
to  a  city  in  which  joy  and  gladness  ever  reign.  "  The 
ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion, 
with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads  :  they 
shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing 
shall  flee  away." 


The  Heavenly  Zion.  409 

Zion,  tlie  place  alluded  to  in  these  words  as  the  fu- 
ture habitation  of  the  redeemed,  is  a  hill,  on  which  a 
part  of  Jerusalem  was  built,  and  where  the  temple  of 
Jehovah  stood.  Hence  it  is  often  used  in  the  Scriptures 
to  signify  the  church  ;  and  it  is  undoubtedly  thus  used 
in  the  passage  before  us.  To  return  to  Zion  implies 
therefore,  to  be  admitted  into  the  visible  church  of 
God,  and  to  a  full  participation  of  all  its  privileges. 
But  it  implies  also  much  more.  It  directs  our  eyes  up- 
ward to  that  holy  hill,  on  which  the  heavenly  Jerusalem 
is  built,  the  city  of  the  living  God.  Of  this  unseen 
residence  of  the  just  the  earthly  Zion  was  a  type  ;  and 
we  may  find  it  a  profitable  subject  of  meditation  to  trace, 
Jirstf  the  resemblance,  and  secondly ^  the  contrast  be- 
tween them. 

I.  1.  The  hill  of  Zion  was  the  peculiar  residence  of 
God.  There  his  temple  was  erected,  and  there  the 
mercy-seat,  the  visible  symbol  of  his  presence  stood. 
There  he  met  his  beloved  people,  communed  with  them,- 
and  blessed  them.  ''  In  Judah  is  God  known,"  says 
the  psalmist ;  "in  Salem  also  is  his  tabernacle,  and  his 
dwelling-place  in  Zion." 

In  heaven  also  the  Almighty  has  a  temple,  and  the 
way  of  holiness  leads  to  it.  It  brings  those,  who  once 
dwelt  in  this  dreary  wilderness,  into  the  kingdom  of 
God  ;  and  not  into  his  kingdom  only,  but  into  his  resi- 
dence, the  peculiar  dwelling-place  of  his  majesty. 
Neither  does  it  leave  them  there.  It  carries  them  into 
the  immediate  presence  of  Jehovah,  places  them  before 
his  throne,  where  they  see  him  as  he  is,  and  hold  the 
most  free,  intimate,  and  uninterrupted  intercourse  with 
him,  and  enter  into  his  joy,  and  are  made  partakers  of 
his  greatness.  Even  here  at  a  distance  from  heaven, 
while  beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 

3  F 


410  The  Heavenly  Zion. 

they  are  changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to 
glory ;  but  there  they  shall  see  him  no  more  through  a 
glass  darkly,  but  face  to  face  ;  and  have  so  much  of  the 
splendour  of  his  presence  reflected  on  them,  as  to  shine 
like  the  brightness  of  the  firmamentj  and  as  the  stars 
for  ever  and  ever. 

If  we  enquire  by  what  means  the  redeemed  obtain 
admission  into  this  mansion  of  blessedness,  the  apostle 
tells  us.  "  We  have  boldness,"  says  he,  "  to  enter  into 
the  holiest  by  the  blood  of  Jesus,  by  a  new  and  living 
way,  which  he  hath  consecrated  for  us  through  the  veil, 
that  is  to  say  his  flesh."  Saint  John  also  speaks  the 
same  language.  Referring  to  that  great  multitude, 
which  he  beheld  clothed  with  white  robes  in  glory, 
*'  These  are  they,"  says  he,  which  came  out  of  great 
tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made 
them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  Therefore  are 
they  before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and 
night  in  his  temple." 

2.  The  Jews  were  taught  to  regard  their  sacred 
mountain  as  the  source  of  all  their  blessings.  When 
salvation  was  promised  them,  it  was  to  come  out  of 
Zion,  and  when  they  were  to  be  strengthened  and 
blessed,  the  Lord  out  of  Zion  was  to  strengthen  and 
bless  them.  Hence  we  find  Daniel  turning  towards  Je- 
rusalem when  he  prayed  in  Babylon,  and  Jonah  looking 
towards  the  holy  temple  of  his  God  when  he  cried 
amidst  the  waves  for  deliverance.  And  what  real  hap- 
piness is  there,  which  comes  not  from  above  ?  If  we 
could  look  through  the  universe  and  search  every  re- 
joicing heart  among  its  innumerable  worlds,  not  a 
i-noment's  blessedness  could  be  found,  which  had  not 
its  origin  in  heaven.  Means  indeed  are  employed  in 
imparting  mercies  and  consolations  to  us,  and  we  are 


The  Heavenly  Zion.  41  i 

often  tempted  to  consider  these  means  as  the  chief  if 
not  the  only  sources  of  our  comforts  ;  but  if  we  viewed 
them  aright,  we  should  regard  them  only  as  channels, 
through  which  it  has  pleased  God  to  communicate  his 
benefits,  and  which,  were  he  to  withhold  his  hand, 
would  lose  all  their  power  to  minister  to  our  necessities. 
The  great  fountain  is  above  ;  and  when  we  have  reached 
the  throne  of  Jehovah,  we  shall  receive  our  happiness 
immediately  from  him,  and  wonder  that  we  should 
ever  have  depended  for  it  on  any  of  his  creatures. 

3.  Zion  also  was  the  place ^  in  which  the  people  of  the 
Lord  assembled.  Three  times  in  the  year  all  the  people 
came  up  to  it  from  every  part  of  the  land,  and  formed 
one  worshipping  and  praising  assembly  in  its  temple.^ 
"  Thither  the  tribes  went  up,  the  tribes  of  the  Lord, 
unto  the  testimony  of  Israel,  to  give  thanks  unto  the 
name  of  the  Lord."  The  apostle  therefore,  when 
speaking  of  the  spiritual  Zion,  fails  not  to  remind  his 
brethren  of  the  society,  into  which  they  would  be  re- 
ceived there.  ^'  Ye  are  come  unto  mount  Zion,"  says 
he,  "and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem  ;  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels; 
to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born, 
which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God,  the  Judge  of 
all ;  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect ;  and  to 
Jesiis,  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant. 

And  who  can  describe  the  blessedness,  which  will 
flow  from  communion  with  such  a  company  as  this? 
Our  intercourse  with  the  Saviour  now,  is  sweeter  than 
we  can  find  words  to  express  it.  Unseen  and  some- 
times unexpected,  he  holds  intercourse  with  our  spirits; 
and  our  hearts  burn  within  us  as  he  draws  near  to  our 
souls.  But  in  heaven  we  shall  behold  his  face,  and  talk 
with  him  as  a  man  talketh  with  his  friend.  We  shall  sit 


413  The  Heavenhj  Zion. 

at  the  feet  of  that  very  Jesus,  who  became  a  man  of 
sorrows  for  our  sakcs ;  and  hear  the  same  voice  pro- 
nounce us  blessed,  which  chased  away  the  fears  of  the 
disconsolate  disciples  at  Jerusalem,  and  called  the  sleep- 
ing Lazarus  from  the  dust  at  Bethany.  The  angels  too 
will  welcome  us  to  their  holy  assembly  ;  and  there  also 
we  shall  behold  all  the  patriarchs  and  prophets,  of  whom 
we  have  heard  and  read  ;  the  glorious  company  of  the 
apostles,  and  the  noble  army  of  martyrs ;  all  the  re- 
deemed out  of  every  kindred,  nation,  and  language ; 
and  among  them  the  much  loved  friends,  whom  death 
has  now  removed  from  our  sight ;  the  friends,  with 
whom  we  once  prayed  and  suffered,  praised  and  re- 
joiced, and  who  are  now  waiting  for  the  hour,  which 
shall  make  us  once  more  the  inhabitants  of  the  same 
world,  and  sharers  in  the  same  bliss.  There  the  parent 
shall  again  behold  the  face  of  his  long  lost  child,  and 
there  the  child  shall  again  rejoice  in  the  smiles  of  his 
parent.  There  the  husband  shall  once  more  bless  the 
departed  wife  of  his  youth,  and  there  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, who  now  lie  together  in  the  grave,  shall  sit  on  the 
same  throne,  and  reign  in  the  same  endless  life.  The 
prospect  of  this  re-union  is  soothing  to  the  soul,  and  it 
ought  to  be  profitable  also.  It  is  calculated  to  sweeten 
and  cement  our  friendships,  to  make  us  deeply  anxious 
for  the  welfare  of  each  others'  souls,  to  alleviate  our 
griff  when  those  whom  we  love  go  to  their  rest,  and  to 
make  us  long  for  heaven  more  ardently  and  seek  it 
more  earnestly.  Let  us  view  it  as  the  general  assembly 
of  the  saints,  and  be  anxious  to  be  made  more  meet  for 
their  undefiled  inheritance  in  light. 

II.  But  it  is  in  vain,  brethren,  that  we  endeavour  to 
comprehend  the  glory  and  happiness  of  the  future  ha- 
bitation of  the  redeemed.  The  earthly  Jerusalem  was  a 


The  Heavenly  Zion.  413 

splendid  city,  beautiful  for  situation,  and  the  joy  of  the 
whole  earth  was  mount  Zion  ;  but  even  in  the  height 
of  her  greatness,  when  the  glory  of  the  Lord  rested  on 
her  tabernacle,  when  peace  was  within  her  walls,  and 
prosperity  within  her  palaces,  she  afforded  but  a  poor 
emblem  of  the  heavenly  Zion.  At  the  period  however, 
to  which  the  words  of  the  prophet  primarily  relate,  the 
contrast  was  peculiarly  striking.  The  Zion,  to  which 
the  liberated  Jews  so  joyfully  returned  after  their  cap- 
tivity in  Biibylon,  was  a  wilderness,  and  Jerusalem  a 
desolation.  The  holy  and  beautiful  house,  where  their 
fathers  worshipped,  was  burnt  up  with  fire,  and  all  their 
pleasant  things  were  laid  waste.  And  even  when  they 
had  succeeded  after  years  of  toil  and  difficulty  in  again 
raising  its  walls,  their  joy  was  embittered  by  a  re- 
membrance of  the  superior  glory  of  their  former  tem- 
ple, and  their  peace  was  incessantly  disturbed  by  the 
attacks  of  their  enemies.  And  where  is  Jerusalem  now  ? 
Where  is  its  temple  ?  Not  a  stone  remains  of  either, 
which  has  not  been  cast  down.  And  where  are  the 
people,  who  founded  them,  and  dwelt  in  them,  and 
loved  them  so  well  ?  Wandering  as  outcasts  on  the 
face  of  the  earth,  scorned  by  men,  and  rejected  by  God. 
As  for  their  country,  it  is  desolate;  strangers  devour  it 
in  their  presence,  and  it  is  desolate  as  overthrown  by 
strangers. 

The  heavenly  Zion  however  knows  no  destruction, 
and  fears  no  changes.  It  is  a  city,  which  hath  founda- 
tions ;  an  abiding  city  ;  a  city,  which  the  force  of  a  uni- 
verse could  not  shake,  nor  the  rolling  ages  of  eternity 
impair.  Its  walls  are  not  lying  in  ruins,  waitiag  to  be 
rebuilt  by  the  sinners  whom  sovereign  mercy  leads  to 
them.  Its  builder  and  maker  is  God.  Before  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world  was  laid,  he  prepared  and  adorned 


414  The  Heavenly  Zion. 

it  for  his  people,  and  to  secure  to  them  its  blessedness 
and  honours,  his  eternal  Son  has  entered  it  as  tlieir 
representative,  and  taken  possession  of  it  in  their  be- 
half; and  he  will  soon  come  again  with  glory  to  take 
them  to  hiuisclf,  and  to  lead  them  to  the  place  he  has 
prepared  for  them.  Then  indeed  shall  they  obtain  joy 
and  gladness;  a  happiness,  which  will  allow  them  to 
shed  no  tears  at  the  remembrance  of  the  bliss  that  was 
lost  in  paradise,  but  cause  sorrow  and  sighing  to  flee, 
like  misfs  before  the  radiant  beams  of  the  sun,  for  ever 
away.  Their  joy  shall  be  everlasting,  without  interrup- 
tion, mixture,  or  end  ;  for  no  enemies  can  come  near 
to  disturb  the  city  where  they  dwell.  No  changes  nor 
commotions  are  dreaded,  no  spectacles  of  woe  are  ever 
seen  within  its  walls.  No  evil  tidings  are  heard  there, 
no  fears  known.  "  Look  upon  Zion,"  says  the  prophet, 
"  the  city  of  our  solemnities.  Thine  eyes  shall  see  Je- 
rusalem a  quiet  habitation,  a  tabernacle  that  shall  not 
be  taken  down  ;  not  one  of  the  stakes  thereof  shall  ever 
be  removed,  neither  shall  any  of  the  cords  thereof  be 
broken.  But  there  the  glorious  Lord  will  be  unto  us  a 
place  of  broad  rivers  and  streams,  wherein  shall  go  no 
galley  with  oars,  neither  shall  gallant  ship  pass  thereby." 
Hear  also  the  testimony  of  one,  who  was  admitted  to  a 
nearer  view  of  its  glories.  "  And  I  John  saw  the  holy 
city,  the  new  Jerusalem,  coming  down  from  God  out 
of  heaven,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  husband. 
And  I  heard  a  great  voice  out  of  heaven,  saying,  '  Be- 
hold, the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men,  and  he  will 
dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his  people,  and  God 
himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their  God.  And 
God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes ;  and 
there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying, 
neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain ;  for  the  former 
things  are  passed  away.'' 


The  Heavenly  Zion.  415 

Such,  brethren,  is  the  blessed  home,  to  which  the 
gospel  of  Christ  is  leading  his  redeemed  people  ;  and  if 
such  be  their  future  habitation,  hoxv  exceedingly  glorious 
ii  their  condition  /  It  is  true  that  but  little  of  their  glory 
is  visible  here,  for  it  has  pleased  God  that  most  of  them 
should  be  numbered  among  the  mean  and  despised; 
but  when  we  view  them  as  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord 
and  as  travellers  to  Zion,  when  v\e  look  back  on  the 
wonders  of  mercy  which  have  been  wrought  for  their 
deliverance,  and  stretch  our  view  forward  to  that  splen- 
did inheritance,  which  is  prepared  for  them  in  eternity, 
there  is  something  unspeakably  grand  in  their  state  and 
character ; — a  grandeur,  which  casts  a  shade  on  all  the 
greatness  of  the  world,  and  elevates  the  soul  above  all 
its  vanities.  Men  may  pour  contempt  on  the  humble 
Christian,  but  the  mercies  of  redemption  have  invested 
him  with  a  dignity,  which  constrains  the  angels  of  God 
to  regard  him  with  wonder,  and  causes  the  eternal  Je- 
hoviih  himself  to  delight  in  him  as  the  most  splendid 
monument  of  his  power  and  grace. 

^nd  how  glorious  also  will  be  the  future  condition  of 
the  Christian  church !  The  prophecy  before  us  yet 
waits  to  be  fully  accomplished.  Though  the  sound  of 
the  gospel  has  already  gladdened  a  part  of  our  earth, 
yet  there  is  many  a  wilderness  in  it  where  its  joyful 
tidings  have  never  yet  been  heard,  and  many  a  desert 
which  has  brought  forth  no  fruits  of  righteousness  to 
the  glory  of  God.  Many  gentile  nations  still  resemble 
the  parched  ground  and  the  habitation  of  dragons,  and 
the  children  of  Israel  and  Judah  are  still  far  off  from  the 
spiritual  Zion.  But  while  we  contemplate  the  scene  of 
desolation  around  us,  it  is  cheering  to  remember  that 
ere  long  the  desert  shall  rejoice  and  the  wilderness  be 
glad ;  that  the  heathen  shall  hear  the  gospel  and  be  en- 


416  Tlie  Heavenly  Zio/i. 

riched  by  its  blessings  ;  that  the  outcasts  of  Israel  shall 
again  be  gathered  into  the  church  of  God,  be  planted 
as  trees  of  righteousness  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord,  and 
"  blossom,  and  bud,  and  fill  the  face  of  the  world  with 
fruit."  "  It  shall  come  to  pass  in  the  last  days,"  says  the 
prophet,  "that  the  mountain  of  the  Lord's  house  shall 
be  established  on  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and  shall  be 
exalted  above  the  hills ;  and  all  nations  shall  flow  unto 
it.  And  many  people  shall  go  and  say,  *  Come  ye,  and 
let  us  go  up  to  the  mountain  of  the  Lord,  to  the  house 
of  the  God  of  Jacob  ;  and  he  will  teach  us  of  his  ways, 
and  we  will  walk  in  his  paths :  for  out  of  Zion  shall  go 
forth  the  law,  and  the  word  of  the  Lord  from  Jerusa- 
lem.' "  Glorious  indeed  will  be  the  state  of  the  church 
in  the  latter  days,  but  how  much  more  glorious  still  in 
that  day,  when  this  prediction  shall  receive  its  final  ac- 
complishment ;  when  the  everlasting  doors  of  heaven 
shall  be  opened,  and  all  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall 
enter  with  their  triumphant  Deliverer  into  the  city  of 
God !  Even  now,  while  following  him  through  a  path 
of  tribulation,  and  clothed  in  the  polluted  garments  of 
the  flesh,  they  are  honourable  and  blessed  ;  what  then 
will  be  their  gladness  when  he  leads  them  into  his 
glory,  and  what  their  honour  when  he  clothes  them  in 
the  robes  of  immortality,  and  presents  them  faultless 
before  the  throne  of  his  Father  with  exceeding  joy  ? 

Looking  forward  to  such  a  glory  as  his  own,  how 
patient  and  diligent  ought  the  Christian  to  he  !  How  sub- 
missive under  his  present  troubles  !  How  full  of  hope 
in  the  contemplation  of  his  future  prospects  !  How  ex- 
ceedingly watchful  lest  he  should  turn  back  and  lose  so 
great  salvation  !  Other  travellers  have  their  thoughts 
constantly  fixed  on  their  home ;  and  it  is  the  hope  of 
reaching  it,  which  enables  them  to  bear  all  the  difiicul- 


The  Heavenly  Zion.  417 

ties  of  their  way  so  contentedly,  and  to  think  so  lightly 
of  its  many  labours.  And  when  the  Christian's  eyes 
are  fixed  on  heaven,  no  pilgrim  can  be  more  joyful 
than  he,  none  more  diligent.  The  world  assumes  a  new 
appearance.  He  does  not  love  it  more,  but  the  anticipa- 
tion  of  his  home  enables  him  to  enjoy  its  blessings 
more  thankfully,  and  to  be  less  harassed  by  its  carcs- 
Like  the  rays  of  the  sun  shining  on  a  roud  which  clouds 
had  darkened,  it  brightens  every  scene  around  him,  and 
fills  him  with  gratitude  and  praise. 

It  is  as  much  our  interest,  brethren,  as  it  is  our  duty 
to  cultivate  this  heavenly  spirit.  Our  happiness  in  this 
world  must  in  a  great  measure  be  derived  from  the 
prospect  of  that  glory,  which  we  shall  inherit  in  the 
next ;  and  until  we  have  learnt  to  live  in  the  habitual 
contemplation  of  this  glory,  we  shall  be  more  frequently 
uttering  the  language  of  despondency,  than  singing  the 
songs  of  Zion.  Hope  is  the  constant  companion  of 
every  rejoicing  pilgrim,  and  under  her  influence  he 
sings  and  presses  forward,  when  others  mourn  and 
faint.  Strive  then  to  abound  in  hope  through  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Meditate  much  on  heaven,  and  on 
the  stability  of  that  covenant,  which  insures  the  posses- 
sion of  it  to  those  whom  Christ  has  ransomed.  Endea- 
vour to  view  every  thing  around  you  in  connection 
with  it.  Live  as  the  heirs  of  it.  Be  diligent,  that  when 
the  Deliverer  shall  come  out  of  Zion  to  carry  his  re- 
deemed home,  you  may  be  found  of  him  in  peace  with- 
out  spot  and  blameless,  and  dwell  for  ever  in  his  holy 
hill,  and  abide  in  his  tabernacle. 

The  text  suggests  to  us  another  reflection, — hoxv 
anxiously  ought  every  man  to  enquire  in  what  way  he  is 
seeking  heaven  !  Some  of  us  appear  to  think  that  it  is 
not  a  matter  of  much  importance  in  what  way  we  seek 

3  G 


4 1 8  Tlie  Heavenly  Zion. 

it :  that  it  is  a  kingdom,  which  may  be  approached  by 
many  roads,  and  which  few  who  hear  of  it  will  fail  to 
reach.  But  is  this  the  hmguage  of  the  Bible?  No  Ian- 
guage  can  be  more  diflcrcnt.  "  Strait  is  the  gaie,'^ 
says  Cliribt,  "and  narrow  is  the  way  which  leadeth 
unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it."  And  as  though 
this  declaration  were  not  sufficiently  alarming  to  rouse 
us  out  of  our  unconcern,  he  adds  to  it  another  still 
more  awful ;  ''  Strive  to  enter  in  at  tiie  strait  gate,  for 
many  1  say  unto  }  ou  shall  seek  to  enter  in  and  shall  not 
be  able."  And  why  shall  they  not  be  able?  Because 
they  have  not  sought  admission  in  the  appointed  way. 
In  what  way  then  are  you  seeking  it  ?  Are  you  walking 
in  that  highway  to  Zion  discovered  to  sinners  in  the 
gospel,  or  are  you  pouring  contempt  on  it,  and  turning 
aside  into  some  more  frequented  and  easier  road  ?  Is 
salvation  by  grace  through  the  redemption  that  is  in 
Christ  Jesus,  the  only  salvation  you  desire  ?  Is  your 
religion  making  you  holy,  delivering  you  from  the  bon- 
dage of  bin,  from  the  love  and  fear  of  the  world,  and 
elevating  your  afie'ctions  to  high  and  heavenly  things? 
Is  your  soul  thirsting  for  God,  longing  to  be  where  he 
is  reigning  in  his  majesty,  and  panting  for  those  exalted 
employ n^ents  and  pleasures  which  are  at  his  right  hand? 
This  is  the  religion,  brethren,  which  will  lead  a  sin- 
ner to  heaven,  and  make  him  happy  when  he  arrives 
there.  Has  the  Holy  Spirit  implanted  it  in  your  breasts? 
Is  it  increasing  in  activity  and  strength  in  your  souls? 
The  question  is  fearfully  important.  May  you  give  no 
sleep  to  your  eyes  nor  slumber  to  your  eye-lids,  till 
you  have  serioiisly  and  closely  considered  it.  It  is  an 
awful  fact,  that  through  the  exceeding  deceitfulness  of 
our  hearts,  we  are  most  liable  to  err  in  tiiat  matter,  in 
which  error  is  the  most  ruinous.    Here  it  is  absolutely 


The  Heavenly  Zion.  4 1 9 

fatal.  To  mistake  the  way  to  lieaven  is  to  sink  into  hell. 
"  There  is  a  way,"  says  the  Scripture,  "  which  seemeth 
right  unto  a  man,  but  the  end  thereof  ic  the  way  of 
death."  There  is  however  another  truth,  which  is  as 
cheering  as  this  is  appalling.  Though  there  is  only  one 
way  to  heaven,  yet  that  is  a  way,  which  all  who  are 
willing  may  enter.  He,  who  opened  it  at  so  costly  a 
price,  stands  at  its  entrance,  and  invites  all  tlie  sinful, 
the  wretched,  and  perishing,  to  walk  in  it,  and  share  its 
safety  and  blessedness.  While  he  calls  them  from  all 
other  ways  by  telling  them  that  no  man  can  come  unto 
the  Farther  but  by  him,  he  encourages  them  to  draw  near 
to  him  in  this  by  the  assurance  that  ^'  whosoever  cometh 
unto  him  shall  in  no  wise  be  cast  out."  ^'  Stand  ye  in 
the  ways  then,  and  see,  and  ask  for  the  old  paths,  and 
where  is  the  good  way,  and  walk  therein ;  and  ye  shall 
find  rest  for  your  souls ;"  a  peaceful  rest  in  the  house 
of  your  pilgrimage,  and  a  glorious  and  eternal  rest  in 
the  habitation  of  your  God. 


SERIMON  XXVII- 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD. 


ROMANS  11.  4. 

Desftisest  thou  the  riches  of  hia  goodness,  and  forbearance,  and  long'- 
suffering ;  not  knowing  that  the  goodness  of  God  Icadctfi  thee  to 
refientance  ? 

A  HIS  question  was  first  addressed  to  the  Jews,  and 
was  designed  to  remind  them  of  the  long  continued  for- 
bearance of  the  Almighty  towards  their  nation,  and  their 
sinful  contempt  of  it.  But  it  is  a  question,  which  can- 
not be  too  solemnly  nor  too  closely  applied  to  ourselves. 
The  subject,  to  which  it  directs  our  attention,  is  the 
patience  of  God  ;  and  it  leads  us  to  consider,  jlrst^  its 
nature  ;  secondly^  its  greatness ;  thirdly <,  the  effect  it  is 
designed  to  produce;  and,  lastly^  the  manner,  in  which 
it  is  often  abused.  May  the  Spirit  of  God  bless  our 
meditations  on  it,  and  cause  them  to  excite  a  spirit  of 
enquiry,  prayer,  and  gratitude  in  every  heart ! 

I.  The  patience  of  God  is  one  of  those  attributes, 
which  the  sins  of  his  creatures  first  called  Into  exercise, 
and  which  they  are  forced  by  his  overruling  hand  to 
display.  It  evidently  implies  guilt  and  provocation  on 
our  part,  and  a  readiness  in  God  to  spare  us  and  keep 
back  his  vengeance.  We  arc  not  therefore  to  suppose 
that  it  proceeds  from  any  ignorance  or  carelessness  in 
the  Almighty.  It  is  not  because  he  docs  not  see  our 
iniquities  that  he  does  not  punish  them,  for  he  tells  us 
that  "  he  has  set  all  our  misdeeds  before  him,  and  our 
secret  sins  in  the  light  of  his  countenance." 


The  Patience  of  God.  4S 1 

Nor  is  it  the  fruit  of  indifference.  On  the  contrary, 
it  implies  that  "  God  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every 
day,"  that  he  is  exceedingly  displeased  with  our  sins, 
and  with  us  on  account  of  them.  They  are  opposed  to 
his  pure  and  holy  nature,  to  his  just  and  good  law,  to 
the  safety  and  happiness  of  his  creatures  ;  and  while  we 
are  contemplating  them  with  cold  unconcern,  he  regards 
them  with  an  abhorrence  which  no  mind  but  his  own 
can  comprehend. 

Neither  must  we  ascribe  the  patience  of  God  to 
weakness,  to  a  want  of  power  to  punish.  We  some- 
times bear  with  provocations  because  we  are  unable  to 
avenge  them ;  but  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  has  at  all 
times  in  his  own  hands  the  means  of  executing  ven- 
geance. The  angels  rebelled  against  him  ;  and?  though 
they  excelled  in  strength,  he  bound  them  in  everlasting 
chains  under  darkness;  and  as  for  offending  man,  he 
could  in  a  moment  consume  him  as  a  moth,  level  his 
body  with  the  dust,  and  send  his  soul  into  a  vvorld  of 
anguish  ;  yea,  the  stroke  of  his  arm  would  cause  the 
foundations  of  the  earth  to  tremble,  and  dash  it  in  pieces 
like  a  potter's  vessel.  Hence  the  prophet  Nahum  con- 
nects the  forbearance  of  God  with  his  power  ;  his  slow- 
ness to  anger  with  his  ability  to  destroy.  "  The  Lord," 
says  he,  *'  revengeth,  and  is  furious;  the  Lord  will  take 
vengeance  on  his  adversaries  ;  and  he  reserveth  wrath 
for  his  enemies.  The  Lord  is  slow  to  anger,  and  great 
in  power,  and  will  not  at  all  acquit  the  wicked.  The 
Lord  hath  his  way  in  the  whirlwind,  and  in  the  storm. 
and  the  clouds  are  the  dust  of  his  feet."  While  he  as- 
serts the  determination  and  ability  of  God  to  punish 
his  enemies,  he  seems  to  intimate  that  he  delays  to 
punish,  because  he  has  power  over  his  own  wrath, 
and,  though  incensed  to  the  utmost,  can  bridle  and 
restrain  it. 


43a  The  Patience  of  God. 

To  what  then  must  we  ascribe  the  riches  of  the  AI- 
mighty 's  patience?  Solely  to  his  goodness.  We  find 
these  attributes  mentioned  together  in  the  text,  and  the 
one  must  be  regarded  as  the  spring  and  origin  of  the 
other.  Goodness,  when  exercised  in  withholding  the 
vengeance  denounced  against  transgressors,  is  forbear- 
ance, and  when  continued  under  repeated  provocations 
it  is  termed  long-suffering.  There  is  however  a  distinc- 
tion to  be  made  between  the  goodness  and  the  patience 
of  God.  Man,  as  needy  is  the  partaker  of  the  one, 
while  man,  as  guilty  is  the  object  of  the  other.  Good- 
ness supplies  our  wants,  patieuce  bears  with  our  sins. 
The  one  will  endure  for  ever,  and  is  inseparable  from 
the  divine  nature  ;  the  other  is  adapted  only  to  the 
present  scene  of  things,  and  may  end  to-morrow.  The 
sacrifice  and  intercession  of  Christ  first  caused  it  to  be 
manifested,  and  when  his  mediatorial  work  of  mercy  is 
accomplished,  patience  will  be  seen  no  more,  but  re- 
main hidden  for  ever  in  the  bosom  of  Jehovah. 

II.  Such  is  the  nature  of  the  divine  patience ;  the 
apostle  reminds  us,  secondly,  of  its  greatness^  its  riches. 
Indeed  every  blessing,  which  Christ  lias  purchased  for 
sinners,  he  has  purchased  in  rich  abundance.  The  mercy 
he  has  obtained  for  them  is  great  and  tender,  the  grace 
manifold  and  exceeding,  the  redemption  plenteous,  the 
joy  unspeakable,  the  glory  an  exceeding  great  and 
eternal  v/eight.  But  before  we  can  discover  all  the 
riches  of  his  Father's  patience,  we  must  be  acquainted 
on  the  one  hand  with  all  the  sins  of  all  the  transgressors 
who  have  experienced  it,  and  on  the  other  with  the  in- 
comprehensible purity  of  God,  and  the  degree  of  hatred 
which  sin  excites  in  his  infinitely  holy  mind.  Enough 
however  of  its  greatness  has  been  displayed,  and  is 
still  displayed  in  the  world,  to  fill  the  enquiring  mind 
with  the  deepest  wonder, 


The  Patience  of  God.  423 

Consider  how  long  it  has  been  exercised.  It  was  first 
exhibited  to  the  universe  in  the  garden  of  Eden.  In 
that  scene  of  blessedness  man  first  spurned  the  authority 
of  his  Creator  ;  and  what  followed  his  daring  trans- 
gression ?  Did  the  earth  immediately  open  its  mouth 
to  swallow  him  up,  or  did  vengeful  lightnings  descend 
from  heaven  to  blast  him  ?  No  ;  he  remained  for  nine 
hundred  years  a  living  monument  of  the  forbearance 
and  goodness  of  his  insulted  God. 

Age  after  age  has  since  passed  away,  during  every 
moment  of  which  the  multiplied  millions  of  mankind 
have  been  in  a  state  of  open  rebellion  against  their  sove- 
reign, but  the  riches  of  his  patience  are  not  exhausted, 
nor  the  treasures  of  his  mercy  diminished.  The  num- 
ber and  greatness  of  the  provocations,  which  he  is  still 
bearing  with,  prove  that  he  is  as  abundant  in  long-suf- 
fering now  as  in  the  days  of  old. 

Consider,  brethren,  hoxv  many  sins  every  man  com- 
mits ;  what  a  multitude  of  transgressions  v/e  all  crowd 
into  every  period  of  our  existence.  We  can  number 
vast  sums  ;  we  can  stretch  the  powers  of  our  mind  to 
take  in  the  idea  even  of  millions ;  but  our  sins  pass 
all  numbering,  and  our  errors  all  understanding. 
Sooner  may  the  hairs  of  our  head  be  numbered  or  the 
stars  of  heaven  be  counted,  than  we  count  the  iniquities 
of  our  short  lives  or  even  number  the  transgressions  of 
one  of  its  hurrying  years. 

Consider  too  how  aggravated  and  daring  many  of  our 
provocations  have  been.  Sinning  against  conscience  and 
convictions,  against  the  warnings  of  friends,  and  the  re- 
bukes of  Providence,  we  have  seemed  at  seasons  to 
fly  in  the  very  face  of  the  Almighty  and  to  brave  his 
vengeance. 

But  we  are  not  the  only  transgressors;  who  are  pro- 


424  The  Patience  of  God, 

yoking  the  Lord  to  anger.  The  earth  is  full  of  the 
habitations  of  wickedness.  Consider  how  many  sinners 
there  are  in  it.  Go  from  province  to  province,  from 
island  to  island,  from  country  to  country,  and  behold 
a  thousand  millions  of  creatures  with  hearts  as  despe- 
rately wicked  as  our  own,  lips  as  unclean,  and  lives  as 
ungodly.  And  yet  the  earth  is  still  suffered  to  keep  its 
place  in  the  creation.  The  sun  still  shines  on  it  and  the 
dews  of  heaven  water  it.  Goodness  and  mercy  still  linger 
among  its  rebellious  inhabitants,  and  testify  to  a  won- 
dering universe  the  infinite  patience  of  its  God. 

III.  But  for  what  end  are  these  amazing  riches  of 
mercy  displayed  ?  What  effect  is  this  patience  designed 
to  produce  in  the  sinner,  towards  whom  it  is  exer- 
cised ?  The  apostle  informs  us  that  it  is  intended  to 
lead  them  to  repentance.  It  springs  from  goodness, 
and  it  makes  mercy  the  end,  at  which  it  aims. 

1.  The  forbearance  of  the  Almighty  ^zi^d"*  us  time 
for  repentance.  It  affords  us  an  opportunity  of  learning 
oar  need  of  it,  and  of  seeking  it.  It  allows  the  disap- 
pointments of  life  to  try  what  effect  they  can  produce 
on  our  hearts,  and  afflictions  to  exert  on  us  their 
awakening  and  softening  power.  It  suffers  the  bitter- 
ness of  sin  to  be  tasted.  It  gives  the  criminal  space  to 
sue  for  pardon,  and  the  ruined  prodigal  time  to  come 
to  himself  and  return  to  the  forsaken  house  of  his 
lather, 

2.  It  shews  us  also  that  the  penitent  may  obtain  for- 
giveness ;  that  the  God  who  spares  is  anxious  to  be 
reconciled  to  us  ;  that  he  is  not  willing  that  any  should 
perish,  but  that  all  should  come  to  repentance.  The 
rebel,  who  is  respited  day  after  day  and  year  after  year, 
lias.no  reason  indeed  to  consider  himself  pardoned, 
but  he  is  warranted  to  hope  that  his  prince  is  inclined 


The  Patience  of  God.  425 

to  pardon  him,  and  willing  to  receive  applications  on 
his  behalf.  And  when  we  behold  the  Almighty  deferr- 
ing to  execute  on  us  the  sentence  of  his  violated  law, 
sending  us  a  reprieve  and  many  mercies  along  with  it 
every  hour  of  our  life,  we  are  encouraged,  nay,  w^e  are 
commanded  to  conclude  that  there  is  mercy  with  him, 
and  that  with  him  is  plenteous  redemption.  His  pa- 
tience bids  us  regard  him  as  a  relenting  Father,  as  well 
as  an  offended  Judge.  It  seals  the  gracious  promises  of 
his  word,  and  assures  us  that  his  anger  may  be  averted 
and  his  wrath  escaped  ;  that  however  numerous  our 
provocations  may  have  been,  however  long  persisted 
in  and  highly  aggravated,  we  may  obtain  everlasting 
salvation,  if  we  will  seek  it  at  his  throne,  and  take  it  on 
his  terms. 

3.  Nay  more  ;  his  forbearance  has  a  tendency  to  pro- 
duce repentance  in  our  hearts.  This  is  the  meaning  of 
the  apostle's  language  in  the  text,  and  the  meaning  also 
of  the  still  stronger  language  of  Saint  Peter,  when  al- 
luding to  this  passage,  he  tells  us  "  to  account  that  the 
long-suffering  of  our  Lord  is  salvation."  Experience 
proves  that  the  stubborn  heart  of  man  is  much  less 
likely  to  be  subdued  by  the  contemplation  of  ven- 
geance, than  by  the  influence  of  mercy.  The  one,  when 
accompanied  with  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  excites  a 
painful,  though  sometimes  a  salutary  fear  in  the  mind, 
while  the  other  beats  down  the  sinner  in  the  dust ;  fills 
his  mind  with  a  sorrow,  deep,  softening,  and  abiding; 
and  lodges  within  his  breast  that  broken  and  contrite 
spirit,  which  God  will  not  despise  :  not  that  remorse 
of  conscience  which  is  the  offspring  of  terror  and  the 
parent  of  misery  and  death,  but  that  penitence  which  is 
the  earnest  of  salvation,  which  causes  the  angels  as  they 
behold   it  to   magnify  with  renewed  ardour  the  rich 

3  H 


4;36  The  Patience  of  God. 

mercy  of  Jehovah,  and  the  enthroned  Redeemer  to  see 
of  the  travail  of  his  soul  and  rejoice.  Taking  him,  as 
it  were,  by  the  hand  and  leading  him  aside.  Patience 
pleads  with  the  sinner,  and  says  to  him,  "  Come,  and 
let  us  reason  together.  Remember  how  long  and  how 
grievously  thou  hast  sinned  against  thy  God ;  how 
thou  hast  wearied  him  and  tried  his  patience  to  the 
very  utmost  by  thine  iniquities.  And  yet  he  is  still 
Wiiiting  to  be  gracious  unto  thee,  and  is  willing  to  pour 
into  thy  vile  heart  the  joys  of  his  salvation.  How  often 
when  in  want  has  he  helped  thee,  when  afflicted  sent 
thee  consolation,  when  sick  restored  thee  !  How  many 
dangers  he  has  warded  off  from  thee,  how  many  evils 
withheld,  how  many  blessings  given !  And  when  for 
thy  profit  he  has  visited  thee  with  chastisements,  how 
tenderly  has  he  corrected  thee,  mitigating  thy  troubles 
by  many  comforts,  and  mingling  with  thy  trials  innume- 
rable benefits  !  That  very  power,  which  he  might  have 
employed  to  punish,  he  has  exercised  all  thy  life  long^ 
to  preserve  and  bless  thee.  No  man  has  ever  borne 
with  his  friend,  no  husband  with  his  wife,  no  parent 
with  his  child,  even  for  one  hour,  as  God  has  borne  for 
days  and  months  and  years  with  thee.  O  admire  his 
patience  and  adore  his  love !  Return  to  thine  injured 
but  pitying  Father.  Lie  low  at  his  footstool.  Mourn 
over  thy  transgressions.  Plead  for  his  mercy." 

IV.  1.  Such  is  the  effect,  which  the  forbearance  of 
the  Almighty  is  designed  and  calculated  to  produce, 
but  it  does  not  always  nor  even  generally  produce  it. 
The  question  in  the  text  intimates  that  we  are  in  dan- 
ger of  despising  the  riches  of  the  divine  goodness,  and 
we  are  undoubtedly  guilty  of  this  sin  when  we  are  un- 
mindful of  the  patience  xulvch  bears  with  us,  when  we 
cither  think  nothing  at  all  about  it,  or  think  lightly  of 


The  Patience  of  God.        '        437 

it.  Many  of  us  live  day  after  day  and  year  after  year, 
and  regard  the  continuance  of  our  lives  and  comforts 
as  a  mere  matter  of  course.  If  some  extraordinary  de- 
liverance is  vouchsafed  to  us,  we  express  perhaps  a 
momentary  feeling  of  gratitude  for  it;  but  as  for  thank- 
ing God  for  keeping  us  alive  and  out  of  hell,  it  hardly 
enters  our  thoughts.  And  when  we  are  reminded  by 
others  of  the  long-suflfering  of  the  Lord,  it  makes  no 
impression  on  our  minds  ;  it  does  not  interest  our  feel- 
ings. While  we  acknowledge  that  it  ought  to  excite 
our  thankfulness,  we  think  of  it  and  talk  of  it,  as 
though  we  had  no  personal  concern,  no  interest  in  it. 
And  yet,  brethren,  were  the  exercise  of  this  long-suf- 
fering towards  us  to  be  for  one  moment  suspended, 
we  should  be  the  very  next  moment  in  a  world  of  un- 
mixed wretchedness.  And  it  is  a  miracle  of  mercy  that 
every  one  of  us  is  not  already  there.  Though  we  think 
so  lightly  of  it,  there  is  not  a  greater  cause  for  wonder 
in  the  universe  than  the  patience  of  God  towards  man, 
except  it  be  man's  unmindfulness  and  contempt  of  it. 

2.  But  if  the  thoughtless  and  unthankful  are  guilty 
of  despising  the  forbearance  of  the  Lord,  much  more 
are  they  included  in  this  charge,  who  draw  encourage- 
ment from  It  to  continue  in  sin. 

It  is  one  of  the  sad  consequences  of  our  depravity, 
as  well  as  one  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  it,  that  we  are 
prone  to  turn  every  blessing  into  a  curse,  and  to  make 
our  remedy  our  poison.  Not  content  with  mere  in- 
-gratitude  for  mercies,  we  abuse  them.  Thus  the  Jews 
treated  the  long-suffering  of  God,  and  thijg  are  many 
of  us  at  the  present  hour  treating  it.  We  hear  of  its 
riches  and  we  experience  its  greatness,  but  instead  of 
employing  the  hours  it  gives  us  in  seeking  reconcilia- 
tion with  heaven,  we  go  on  adding  sin  to  sin,  and  in- 


458  The  Patience  of  God. 

creasing  the  terrors  of  our  future  condemnation.  Be- 
cause God  is  slow  to  punish,  we  eonchide  that  he  never 
will  punish;  that  he  is  unconcerned  about  our  sins; 
that  he  either  does  not  notice  them,  or,  if  he  notices 
them,  that  he  is  too  merciful  and  too  mindful  of  our 
frailty  and  infirmities  to  call  us  to  a  strict  account  for 
them.  The  consequence  is  that  we  become  more  fear- 
less and  hardened.  Instead  of  forsaking  our  old  sins, 
we  plunge  into  new  transgressions,  and  make  that  very- 
patience,  which  was  designed  to  lead  us  to  repent- 
ance, the  means  of  inspiring  us  with  confidence  and 
presumption  in  our  rebellion.  "  Because  sentence 
against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore 
the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do 
evil." 

No  conduct,  brethren,  can  be  more  base  than  this, 
none  more  dangerous ;  but  there  is  none  more  com- 
mon. There  is  an  awful  propensity  to  it  in  our  very 
nature.  We  naturally  reason  from  the  past  to  the  future, 
and  we  are  prone  to  infer  that  the  dispensations  of  the 
Almighty  towards  us  will  for  ever  continue  the  same 
as  they  have  hitherto  been,  that  mercy  will  ever  be 
mingled  with  judgment,  and  patience  never  have  an 
end.  It  becomes  us  then  to  look  closely  to  ourselves  ; 
to  regard  the  question  in  the  text  as  addressed  to  us  in 
particular  ;  to  consider  the  Holy  Spirit  as  singling  us 
out  this  very  hour,  and  saying  to  each  of  us,  *'  De- 
spisest  thou  the  riches  of  the  Lord's  goodness,  and  for- 
bearance, and  long-suffering  ?" 

Some  of  us  need  not  hesitate  a  moment  in  answering 
this  question.  Our  consciences  testify  that  so  fiir  from 
having  been  led  to  repentance  by  the  forbearance 
we  have  experienced,  we  have  seldom  thought  of 
it,  yea,  that  we  have  never  in  our  whole  lives  seriously 


The  Patience  of  God.  4S9 

asked  for  what  end  we  have  been  spared,  nor  spent 
our  hour  in  enquiring  whether  that  end  has  been  an- 
swered. As  long  as  we  remain  in  a  state  of  mind  so 
careless  as  this  we  must  take  no  consolation  from  the 
words  of  the  apostle.  He  designed  them  to  alarm,  ra- 
ther than  cheer  us ;  and  in  order  to  alarm  us,  he  points 
out  in  the  following  verse  the  consequences  of  our 
desperate  folly.  To  every  one  who  is  a  stranger  to 
heart-felt  repentance  he  says,  ^'  After  thy  hardness  and 
impenitent  heart,  thou  treasurest  up  unto  thyself  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  the  righteous 
judgment  of  God." 

The  time  of  patience  then  will  have  an  end.  Not- 
withstanding all  present  appearances  to  the  contrary, 
there  is  a  day  coming  in  which  it  will  give  place  to 
wrath.  And  this  wrath  vvill  be  aggravated  by  the  mercy, 
v/hich  has  preceded  it.  The  fact  is,  that  God  exercises 
his  long-suffering  for  his  own  glory,  as  well  as  for  our 
salvation ;  and  though  we  may  lose  the  advantages,  he 
will  not  lose  the  honour  of  it.  When  patience  has  per- 
formed her  appointed  work,  she  will  retire  from  our 
sight,  and  justice  will  ascend  the  throne,  and  have  a 
solemn  triumph  in  the  final  destruction  of  those,  who 
have  spurned  at  mercy.  Now  the  justice  of  Jehovali 
magnifies  his  patience ;  but  then  patience  abused  will 
magnify  his  justice,  make  it  more  fearful,  and  invest  it 
with  more  awful  splendours.  His  backwardness  to 
punish,  is  now  causing  thousands  of  his  enemies  to 
suspect  his  purity  and  greatness ;  but  then  the  out- 
pouring  of  his  treasured  wrath  will  wipe  off  the  re- 
proach, and  force  an  assembled  world  to  acknowledge 
the  fearfulness  of  his  holiness,  and  the  terrors  of  his 
majesty.  "  O  consider  this,  ye  that  forget  God,  lest  he 
tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there  be  none  to  deliver."    Be 


430  The  Patiefice  of  God. 

thoughtful.  Be  prayerful.  Force  your  careless  souls  to 
reflect,  and  your  stubborn  knees  to  bend.  At  least  be 
determined  to  live  no  longer  utterly  regardless  of  the 
patience,  which  spares  you.  Bring  it  before  your  mind 
in  the  morning,  and  in  the  evening  meditate  on  it  again, 
and  strive  to  impress  on  your  soul  a  sense  of  its  great- 
ness and  its  design.  O  let  not  its  inestimable  riches  be 
all  wasted.  Perish  not  while  mercy  so  great  and  so  free 
is  waiting  to  deliver  you.  Harden  not  the  heart,  which 
the  eternal  Spirit  is  so  ready  to  soften  ;  and  destroy  not 
the  soul,  which  the  everlasting  Jesus  died  to  save. 

To  the  fearful  and  penitent  the  subject  before  us  is 
calculated  to  administer  encouragement.  You  are  con- 
scious perhaps,  that  you  have  long  despised  the  pa- 
tience of  the  Lord,  and  you  need  no  arguments  to  con- 
vince you  of  the  heinousness  and  danger  of  your  con- 
duct. The  remembrance  of  your  provocations  is  griev- 
ous unto  you,  and  the  burden  of  them  is  at  seasons 
almost  intolerable.  Your  preservation  from  day  to  day 
fills  you  with  wonder.  When  you  close  your  eyes  in 
the  evening,  it  is  with  an  apprehension  that  you  may 
open  them  in  eternity  ;  and  when  you  awake  in  the 
morning,  your  first  thoughts  are  thoughts  of  surprise 
and  thankfulness  that  you  are  yet  among  the  living. 
You  hear  of  the  mercy  of  a  dying  Jesus,  but  you  fear 
that  for  you  the  time  of  mercy  is  passed,  and  the  day  of 
grace  ended.  But  these  fears  are  groundless.  The  long- 
suffering  you  have  experienced  tells  you,  as  plainly  as 
God  can  tell  you,  that  he  is  willing  to  be  reconciled  to 
you,  that  he  is  anxious  to  see  you  supplicating  pardon 
at  his  throne,  that  he  keeps  you  alive  for  the  very  pur- 
pose of  giving  you  time  and  encouragement  to  return 
to  him,  and  lay  hold  of  his  great  salvation. 

You  may  learn  the  same  lesson  also  from  his  for- 


The  Patience  of  God.  431 

bearance  to  others.  If  he  extends  his  long-suffering  year 
after  year  to  the  thousands  of  hardened  sinners  who  de- 
file the  earth,  to  the  drunkard,  the  sabbath-breaker,  the 
man  who  openly  despises  his  authority,  and  glories  in 
blaspheming  his  name ;  surely  his  mercy  can  reach  to 
those,  who  are  mourning  over  their  transgressions,  and 
trembling  at  his  word.  Shall  the  rebel,  who  is  in  arms 
against  him  and  setting  him  at  defiance,  be  spared;  and 
shall  the  returning  penitent,  prostrate  at  his  feet,  find  no 
compassion,  no  grace  ? 

You  yourselves  too,  brethren,  were  once  foolish  and 
disobedient,  full  of  enmity  against  God,  and  dead  to 
his  fear  and  love.  Not  one  tear  did  you  ever  shed  for 
sin.  On  the  contrary  it  was  for  years  your  joy,  and 
perhaps  your  glory.  And  yet  the  Lord  bore  with  yon, 
and  not  only  bore  with  you  but  gave  you  the  means  of 
grace,  and  has  sent  at  length  his  Holy  Spirit  to  warn 
you,  to  pierce  your  heart  with  a  sense  of  your  iniquities, 
and  to  fasten  on  your  minds  an  apprehension  of  judg- 
ment. Now  what  conclusion  are  you  warranted  to  draw 
from  his  goodness  towards  you  ?  If  you  were  spared 
when  sin  was  your  delight,  you  may  surely  conclude 
that  you  will  not  be  destroyed  when  it  is  your  burden. 
If  wrath  were  withheld  when  you  were  rebellious  and 
daring,  and  withheld  for  the  very  purpose  of  leading 
you  to  repentance,  you  can  have  no  reason  to  think  that 
mercy  will  be  denied  when  you  are  become  submissive 
and  trembling.  God  himself  assures  you  that  it  will  not. 
He  declares  in  his  word  that  he  casteth  out  none  that 
come  to  him  ;  and  in  order  to  remove  all  unbelief  and 
suspicion  from  your  mind,  he  has  singled  out  some  of 
the  vilest  of  his  enemies,  reconciled  them  to  himself 
through  the  blood  of  his  everlasting  covenant,  and 
owned  and  loved  them  as  his  children.  He  reminds  you^ 


432  The  Patience  of  God. 

of  Manasseh  and  of  Paul,  and  tells  you  that  for  this 
cause  they  obtained  mercy,  to  show  forth  the  boundless 
riches  of  his  t^race,  and  to  encourage  you  to  come  with 
humble  boldness  to  his  throne.  Seize  then  the  oppor- 
tunity. Accept  his  offered  salvation  :  Believe  in  the  re- 
cord he  has  given  of  his  Son;  and  you,  who  are  now 
the  monuments  of  his  patience,  shall  soon  be  witnesses 
to  others  of  his  readiness  to  pardon,  and  everlasting 
monuments  of  his  ability  to  save. 

The  pardoned  also,  the  sinners  whom  the  goodness 
of  God  has  already  led  to  repentance  and  righteousness, 
may  learn  much  from  the  contemplation  of  his  patience. 
It  is  to  this  that  they  are  indebted  for  all  their  present 
privileges,  and  future  prospects.  Remember,  brethren, 
the  years  that  are  passed.  Look  back  to  the  days  of 
your  childhood  and  youth.  How  many,  who  were  then 
your  companions  in  folly,  have  since  been  summoned 
away  !  And  where  are  they  now  ?  We  dare  not  answer 
the  question.  But  where  are  you  ?  Safe  in  Christ, 
cleansed  by  his  blood,  clothed  in  his  righteousness, 
sanctified  by  his  Spirit,  living  in  the  arms  of  merc}^, 
and  rejoicing  in  the  hope  of  glory.  And  to  what  must 
you  trace  the  difference  between  your  condition,  and 
that  of  your  lost  companions  ?  Not  to  your  less  daring 
wickedness,  for  you  perhaps  were  as  thoughtless  as 
they,  but  lo  the  forbearance  of  God,  to  that  forbearance 
which  kept  you  alive  till  grace  softened  and  changed 
you.  Nay,  you  are  still  indebted  to  the  continued  ex- 
ercise of  his  patience.  Though  pardoned  and  accepted, 
it  is  this,  which  keeps  you  hour  by  hour  from  destruc- 
tion. May  a  conviction  of  this  truth  affect  and  humble 
you  !  May  it  attach  you  more  closely  to  your  long-suf- 
fering God,  and  endear  to  you  that  Saviour,  whose 
blood  purchased  the  mercy  that  spares,  as  well  as  the 


The  Patience  of  God.  433 

grace  which  enriches  you  !  In  the  midst  of  the  bless- 
ings and  honours,  which  are  heaped  on  your  head,  re- 
gard yourselves  as  criminals  offending  every  hour,  and 
every  hour  receiving  a  pardon  ;  and  show  that  you  re- 
gard yourselves  in  this  light,  by  the  readiness  with 
which  you  bear  with  the  offences  of  others.  Who 
should  exercise  mercy  more,  than  they  who  have  found 
it  ?  None  will  exercise  it  more.  The  pardon  they  have 
obtained  disposes  them  to  be  willing  to  pardon,  and  the 
patience  they  are  receiving  makes  them  patient  also.  Be 
ye  therefore  followers  of  God  as  dear  children,  and  prove 
your  relation  to  him  by  resembling  him  in  that,  which 
he  deems  the  chief  glory  of  his  nature — his  slowness 
to  wrath ;  his  ability  to  bear  provocations,  and  his 
readiness  to  forgive  them. 


SERMON  XXVIII. 


THE  REPENTANCE  OF  JUDAS. 


ST.    MATTHEW  XXVil.  3,  4,  5. 

Then  Judas,  which  had  betrayed  him,  ivhen  he  saw  that  he  was  con- 
demned, repented  himself,  and  brought  again  the  thirty  fiieces  of  sil- 
ver to  the  chief  priests  and  elders,  saying,  "  /  have  sinned  in  that  I 
have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood."  And  they  said,  "  What  is  that  to 
us?  See  thou  to  that."  And  he  cast  down  the  pieces  of  silver  in  the 
temple,  and  departed,  and  went  arid  hanged  himself. 


Among  the  various  characters  exhibited  to  our 
view  in  the  holy  Scriptures,  the  character  of  Judas  is 
perhaps  the  most  awful  and  alarming.  We  behold  in 
this  wretched  man  one  who  forsook  all  he  possessed  to 
follow  the  despised  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  exposing  him- 
self year  after  year  to  persecution  for  his  sake,  preach- 
ing his  gospel  and  working  miracles  in  his  name,  un- 
suspected by  his  fellow-disciples  and  not  disowned  by 
his  Lord  ;  and  yet  we  are  warranted  to  say  that  it  would 
have  been  good  for  this  man  if  he  had  never  been  born  ; 
that  he  was  all  his  life  long  a  son  of  perdition,  and  is 
now  in  the  land  of  darkness. 

The  history  of  this  extraordinary  person  is  full  of 
instruction  and  warning.  Indeed  every  part  of  it  is 
sufficient  to  make  the  most  light-hearted  serious,  and 
the  most  hardened  tremble.  But  confining  our  atten- 
tion to  the  closing  scene  of  his  life,  let  us  examine  the 
nature  of  that  repentance,  which  he  then  manifested, 
and  which,  it  is  evident,  bore  a  very  strong  resemblance 


The  Repentance  of  Judas,  435 

to  genuine  contrition,  though  at  the  same  time  it  came 
materially  short  of  it.  We  may  be  enabled  to  form  a 
correct  estimate  of  it  by  enquiring,  ^r^?,  wherein  it  re- 
sembled true  repentance  ;  and,  secondly,  wherein  it  dif- 
fered from  it. 

1.  1.  It  is  plain  that  the  repentance  of  Judas  resem- 
bled true  repentance  in  that  conviction  of  sin,  from 
which  it  sprung.  He  knew  that  he  had  transgressed, 
grievously  and  daringly  transgressed,  so  that  while  the 
priests  and  pharisees  around  him  were  trusting  in  them- 
selves that  they  were  righteous,  he,  like  the  contrite 
sinner  in  the  temple,  saw  and  felt  himself  guilty,  and 
justly  exposed  to  the  wrath  of  God. 

2.  This  resemblance  may  be  traced  also  in  the  open 
acknowledgment  of  guilt,  to  which  his  convictions  led 
hhn.  There  was  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  crime,  or  to 
disguise  its  atrocity.  He  went  promptly  and  uncalled 
for  to  the  chief  priests  and  elders,  and  openly  acknow- 
ledged before  them  his  own  guilt,  and  the  innocence  of 
Jesus,  Thus  did  a  righteous  God  provide  for  the  ho- 
nour of  his  persecuted  Son.  He  had  before  forced  un- 
clean spirits  to  declare  his  dignity,  and  he  now  con- 
strained him,  who  had  been  employed  in  their  service 
and  was  soon  to  be  numbered  among  them,  to  bear  a 
public  testimony  to  him,  to  bear  it  too  at  a  time  when 
its  sincerity  could  not  possibly  be  questioned  nor  its 
force  gainsayed. 

3.  But  it  may  be  said,  "  Although  Judas  was  thus 
convinced  of  his  guilt,  and  thus  openly  confessed  it,  he 
was  not  perhaps  much  affected  by  a  sense  of  it,  and  felt 
little  or  no  regret  on  account  of  it."  It  appears  however, 
that  the  sin  which  he  had  committed,  wrung  his  heart 
with  anguish  so  acute,  that  his  existence  became  an  in- 
tolerable burden.  Hence  we  may  observe  another  point 


^-^3^     "  The  Repentance  of  Judaa. 

of  similarity  between  him  ajid  the  real  penitent  in  the 
deep  sorrazv  xvith  which  his  repentance  was  accompanied. 
The  language  of  the  sacred  historian  appears  to  warrant 
the  supposition,  that  when  he  consented  to  betray  his 
Master,  he  had  persuaded  himself  that  this  act  of 
.  treachery  would  not  prove  fatal  to  him.  He  thought 
perhaps  that  he  would,  as  on  former  occasions,  deliver 
himself  from  the  hands  of  his  enemies  b}'  an  exertioa 
of  his  miraculous  power;  and  thus  while  his  crime 
served  to  enrich  himself,  it  would  really  prothote  the 
interest  of  his  Lord  by  giving  him  a  signal  and  public 
opportunity  of  manifesting  his  greatness.  When  there- 
fore he  saw  that  he  was  really  condemned  ;  when  he  saw 
him,  instead  of  passing  through  the  surrounding  mul- 
titude, or  striking  down  by  the  word  of  his  mouth  the 
guards  and  soldiers  around  him,  quietly  submitting  to 
be  led  to  prison  and  to  judgment;  when  he  saw  his 
friend,  his  guide,  his  benefactor,  going  as  a  lamb  to 
the  slaughter,  a  multitude  of  distracting  thoughts 
crowded  into  his  mind,  his  obdurate  heart  relented, 
and  his  former  unconcern  gave  way  to  a  sorrow  as  sin- 
cere and  pungent,  as  ever  wrung  a  guilty  breast. 

4.  But  a  still  more  remarkable  resemblance  to  spiri- 
tual contrition,  may  be  noticed  in  the  self-condemnation, 
with  which  the  repentance  of  Judas  was  attended.  We 
are  all  willing  to  confess  that  we  have  sinned,  and  there 
are  seasons  perhaps  in  which  most  of  us  feel  some  de- 
gree of  sorrow  at  the  remembrance  of  our  transgres- 
sions, but  then  we  are  not  willing  to  condemn  ourselves 
on  account  of  them.  We  are  continually  attempting  to 
excuse  and  palliate  our  conduct,  pleading  in  our  de- 
fence the  power  of  temptation,  the  force  of  example, 
the  peculiar  circumstances  in  which  we  have  been 
pLaced,  the  frailty  of  our  nature,  and  a  thousand  other 


The  Repentance  of  Judas.  437 

excuses  which  our  depraved  ingenuity  has  invented. 
Like  our  first  parents  in  the  hour  of  their  shame,  we 
throw  the  blame  of  our  sins  on  Satan,  on  each  other, 
on  God,  or  in  short  any  where,  rather  than  take  it  to 
ourselves.  Now  this  is  not  the  case  with  the  sincere 
penitent,  neither  was  it  the  case  with  Judas.  When  he 
confessed  his  guilt,  he  made  no  effort  to  represent  it  as 
less  aggravated  than  it  really  w-as.  On  the  contrary,  he 
appeared  anxious  to  welcome  the  shame  of  it,  and 
seemed  ready  to  take  up  the  words  of  the  abased  Job, 
and  say,  "Behold  I  am  vile;  what  shall  I  answer?  If  I 
justify  myself,  mine  own  mouth  shall  condemn  me." 

5.  "  But  of  what  avail,"  it  may  be  said,  "  are  con- 
victions and  confessions,  anguish  of  spirit  and  self-con- 
demnation, if  sin  be  not  forsaken,  and  the  fruits  of  it 
renounced,  and  the  injury  it  has  done  repaired?"  They 
are  undoubtedly  worthless,  so  worthless,  that  where 
these  things  are  wanting,  the  most  open  humiliation 
and  the  most  heart-rending  sorrow  are  no  more  accepta- 
ble to  God,  than  the  self-reproach  of  the  condemned,  or 
the  groans  of  the  lost.  But  these  things  were  not  want- 
ing in  the  repentance  of  Judas,  for  mark,  further,  his 
extreme  anxiety  to  counteract  the  evil  consequences  of 
his  crime,  and  his  entire  renunciation  of  its  fruits.  "  He 
brought  again  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  to  the  chief 
priests  and  elders."  The  money,  from  which  he  had 
expected  so  much  gratification,  became  now  a  source 
of  remorse  and  misery.  Regarding  it  as  the  price  of 
his  Master's  blood,  and  the  wages  of  his  own  unrigh- 
teousness, he  could  not  look  upon  it  without  horror, 
he  could  not  keep  it  without  torment.  Impatient  to  put 
it  far  away  from  him,  he  carried  it  back  to  those  from 
whom  he  had  received  it ;  and  when  they  refused  to 
accept  it,  he  cast  it  down  with  abhorrence  in  the  temple 


438  The  Repentance  of  Judas. 

and  departed.  And  not  only  this,  but  he  endeavours  at 
the  hazard  of  his  life  to  prevent  the  execution  of  Christ. 
While  one  of  his  disciples  was  denying  and  the  others 
deserting  him,  Judas  openly  declared  his  innocence  be- 
fore the  assembled  Sanhedrim,  and  thus  boldly  con- 
demned their  proceedings,  and  showed  that  he  was 
ready  to  encounter  any  danger,  to  bear  the  utmost  vio- 
lence of  their  malice,  so  that  he  might  vindicate  and 
save  his  injured  Lord. 

These,  brethren,  are  the  signs,  by  which  this  un- 
happy man  evinced  the  sincerity  of  his  repentance. 
Who  as  he  thinks  of  them  can  resist  the  conviction 
that  there  are  very  few  among  us,  whose  repentance 
would  bear  to  be  compared  for  one  moment  with  his  ? 
We  all  indeed  acknowledge  ourselves  to  be  sinners, 
but  no  abiding  consciousness  of  guilt  disturbs  our 
peace,  and  our  confessions  of  it  are  litde  more  than 
mere  words  of  course,  or  idle  and  unmeaning  compli- 
ments to  our  God.  We  call  ourselves  miserable  offen- 
ders, but  as  for  the  misery  of  sin,  we  have  never  felt  it. 
It  is  on  the  contrary  our  delight,  and  all  our  ideas  of 
happiness  are  more  or  less  connected  with  it.  How 
backward  also  are  we  to  condemn  ourselves !  and  how 
do  our  proud  spirits  rise  and  rage,  when  we  are  con- 
demned or  censured  by  others  !  Instead  of  forsaking 
the  iniquities  we  confess,  we  hold  them  fast,  and  are 
prepared  to  repeat  to-morrow,  without  compunction  or 
shame,  the  sins  which  we  have  professed  to  lament  to- 
day. This  striking  difference  between  us  and  the  be- 
trayer of  our  Lord  may  well  excite  our  fears,  and  the 
more  so  when  we  remember  that  even  his  sincere  and 
heart-felt  remorse  fell  far  short  of  real  contrition,  and 
left  him  to  perish. 

II.  That  this  salutary  impression  may  be  strength- 


The  Repentcmce  of  Judas.  439 

ened  in  our  minds,  let  us  proceed  to  enquire,  secondly, 
wherein  the  specious  repentance  we  have  been  consi- 
dering differed  from  that  godly  sorrow,  with  which 
pardon  and  salvation  are  connected. 

1.  It  differed  from  it,  first,  in  its  origin.  It  was  the 
work  of  natural  conscience  roused  out  of  its  slumber 
by  the  power  of  God,  sitting  as  a  judge  and  avenger  in 
the  traitor's  heart,  and  filling  it  with  self-accusation, 
horror,  and  fear.  In  true  repentance  indeed  there  is  an 
awakening  of  the  conscience,  an  alarm  in  the  soul,  a 
conviction  of  guilt,  and  an  apprehension  of  danger; 
but  then  though  preceded  and  accompanied  by  these 
feelings,  it  is  not  occasioned  by  them.  It  springs  from 
the  special  grace  of  God.  It  is  the  operation  of  that 
Spirit,  who  has  access  to  every  mind,  and  can  bend 
and  soften  every  heart  at  his  will.  It  is  the  gift  of  that 
eternal  Jesus,  who  purchased  it  with  his  blood,  and  is 
exalted  to  bestow  it  on  his  church.  It  is  blended  with 
fear,  but  the  instrument  employed  in  producing  it  is 
faith,  a  stedfast  and  lively  belief  in  the  promises  of  the 
gospel,  a  close  and  overpowering  view  of  the  love  of 
God  in  redemption,  an  estimating  of  our  guilt  by  the 
price  that  was  paid  for  its  pardon.  "  The  goodness  of 
God,"  says  the  apostle,  *'  leadeth  to  repentance  ;"  and 
the  prophet  Zechariah  speaks  the  same  language.  He 
compares  the  grief  of  the  penitent  to  the  deep  and  bit- 
ter anguish  of  a  parent,  who  mourns  for  his  first-born, 
and  he  ascribes  it  to  that  Spirit  of  grace,  which  directs 
the  eye  of  the  sinner  to  a  pierced  Saviour,  and  assures 
him  that  he  was  pierced  and  wounded  for  him. 

2.  The  difference  between  the  remorse  of  conscience, 
which  Judas  manifested,  and  the  contrition  of  the  truly 
repentant  sinner,  may  be  discovered  also  in  the  object 
of  his  sorrow.    Of  what  did  Judas  repent  ?    Not  of  his 


440  The  Repentance  of  Judas. 

crime,  but  of  its  consequences.  As  soon  as  he  was 
awakened  to  a  sense  of  his  transgression,  the  prophetic 
declaration  of  his  Master  concerning  his  latter  end 
rushed  into  his  mind,  and  his  soul  was  dismayed  at  the 
prospect  before  him.  Could  he  have  been  assured  that 
this  vengeance  was  averted,  he  would  probably  have 
enjoyed  the  reward  of  his  perfidy  without  remorse,  and 
after  shedding  a  tear  or  two  over  the  grave  of  his  Lord, 
would  have  thought  of  his  iniquity  no  more.  But  the 
sorrow  of  the  true  penitent  is  altogether  of  a  different 
nature.  He  dreads  the  consequences  of  sin,  but  it  is 
over  sin  itself  that  he  mourns.  This  is  the  evil  which 
causes  him  to  repent  himself,  makes  him  weep  bitterly 
in  secret  like  Peter,  and  smite  on  his  breast  like  the 
publican,  and  humble  himself  in  dust  and  ashes  like 
Job.  Taught  to  perceive  its  baseness  and  pollution,  he 
regards  it  with  an  abhorrence  equal  to  his  former  love 
of  it,  with  a  loathing  which  no  length  of  time,  no  hope 
of  pardon  can  remove.  His  sorrow  is  a  godly  sorrow, 
a  sorrow,  which  not  only  proceeds  from  God,  but  which 
has  a  direct  reference  to  him.  He  regards  sin  as  an  of- 
fence against  the  Sovereign  of  heaven,  against  his  infi- 
nite majesty,  his  incomprehensible  purity,  his  unsearch- 
able grace.  He  enters  into  the  feelings  and  adopts  the 
language  of  David,  and  losing  sight  of  all  other  consi- 
derations, he  says,  "  Against  thee,  thee  only,  have  I 
sinned ;  against  thee,  my  Friend  and  my  Father,  my 
Kedeemer  and  my  Saviour,  my  Lord  and  my  God." 

3.  The  repentance  of  this  traitorous  disciple  was  de- 
fective also  in  its  extent.  It  was  of  a  very  partial  nature. 
When  he  confessed  that  he  had  sinned,  he  did  not  like 
the  publican  style  himself  a  sinner,  nor  did  he  say  with 
Simon  that  he  was  a  sinful  man.  Expressing  no  con- 
cern for  his  covetousness  and  theft,  and  probably  not 


The  Repentance  of  Judas,  441 

thinking  of  them,  he  merely  refers  to  a  solitary  act  of 
sinfulness.  ^*  1  have  sinned,"  says  he,  "  in  that  I  have 
betrayed  the  innocent  blood."  The  real  penitent  how- 
ever, *'  is  convinced  of  all,  he  is  judged  of  all."  It  is 
true  that  those  offences,  which  have  been  attended  with 
peculiar  aggravations,  occur  to  his  mind  more  fre- 
quently than  others  of  a  less  heinous  nature,  and  excite 
there  a  more  piercing  sorrow,  but  his  attention  and 
thoughts  are  not  confined  to  them.  He  takes  an  exten- 
sive view  of  his  transgressions,  and  mourns  over  them 
all.  He  deplores  his  omissions  of  duty  as  well  as  his 
positive  commissions  of  evil,  his  short-comings  as  well 
as  his  crimes,  his  once  loved  and  defended  follies  as 
well  as  his  flagrant  enormities.  Nor  is  this  all.  He  looks 
within.  The  impurity  of  the  stream  leads  him  to  ex- 
amine the  fountain,  from  which  it  flows;  and  within 
that  heart,  which  he  once  thought  good  and  untainted, 
he  finds  abominations  which  distress  his  soul,  a  host  of 
foolish  iiP.aginations,  proud  suggestions,  debasing  im- 
purities, and  corrupt  desires.  Turn  again  to  the  broken- 
hearted David,  and  enquire  into  the  source  of  his  sor- 
row. He  tells  us  of  the  blood-guiltiness  of  his  life,  but 
the  desperate  wickedness  of  his  heart  appears  to  be  the 
chief  cause  of  his  anguish,  and  the  removal  of  this  evil 
his  chief  prayer.  *'  Behold,"  says  he,  "  I  was  shapeii 
in  iniquity,  and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me. 
Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right 
spirit  within  me.  Wash  me  thoroughly  from  mine  ini- 
quity, and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin." 

4.  The  remorse  of  Judas  differed  from  true  repent- 
ance also  in  its  result.  And  what  is  the  result  of  genuine 
sorrow  ?  We  cannot  fully  answer  this  question  till  we 
have  gone  with  the  weeping  penitent  into  the  eternal 
world,  and  tasted  the  peace  and  blessedness,  which  are 

3K 


44S  The  Repentance  of  Judas. 

reserved  for  him  there.  As  far  however  as  regards  the 
present  life,  real  coniritioii  is  invariably  followed  by 
prayer,  by  an  earnest  application  for  pardon,  and  a 
greater  or  less  degree  of  hope  in  the  mercy  of  God. 
Thus  we  find  David  blending  together  confessions  of 
guilt,  and  cries  for  deliverance.  "  Have  mercy  upon 
me,  O  God,  according  to  thy  loving  kindness  ;  accord- 
ing unto  the  multitude  of  thy  tender  mercies,  blot  out 
my  transgressions.  Cast  me  not  away  from  thy  pre- 
sence, and  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me.  Restore 
unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salvation,  and  uphold  me  with 
thy  free  Spirit.  Deliver  me  from  blood-guiltiness,  O 
God,  thou  God  of  my  salvation,  and  my  tongue  shall 
sing  aloud  of  thy  righteousness." 

But  the  remorse  of  the  ungodly  is  succeeded  by  very 
different  effects.  It  produces  despair,  and  despair  si- 
lences the  voice  of  supplication,  hardens  the  heart,  and 
U'orketh  death.  Such  was  its  issue  in  Judas.  We  be- 
hold him  departing  from  the  temple,  and  it  might  have 
been  hoped  after  the  contrition  he  had  manifested  there, 
that  he  was  about  to  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Sa- 
viour whom  he  had  betrayed,  or  at  least  to  implore  in 
secret  the  mercy  of  that  God  whom  he  had  offended. 
But  no.  Stung  with  remorse  and  abandoned  to  despair, 
he  precipitated  himself  into  the  very  misery  which  he 
dreaded,  and  hurried  to  the  tribunal  of  that  Judge  at 
whose  vengeance  he  trembled.  "  He  cast  down  the 
pieces  of  silver  in  the  temple,  and  departed,  and  went 
and  hanged  himself." 

And  now,  brethren,  let  us  ask  what  are  the  practical 
lessons,  which  this  solemn  subject  is  calculated  to  teach 
us.  It  shows  us  first,  that  xve  may  bear  a  very  close  re- 
semblance to  the  disciples  of  Christy  and  yet  remain  still 
in  the  number  of  his  enemies*  arid  share  tfieir  condcmJia- 


The  Repentance  of  Judas.  443 

Hon.  It  reminds  us  that  we  may  seem  to  have  proceeded 
far  in  the  way  to  heaven,  and  yet  never  reach  it,  be  al- 
most saved,  but  altogether  lost.  It  calls  upon  every  one 
of  us  not  to  take  his  sincerity  and  safety  for  granted,  but 
to  examine  the  foundation  on  which  his  hope  rests,  and 
to  enquire,  with  the  most  earnest  anxiety,  whether  he 
be  indeed  and  in  truth  under  the  converting  and  saving 
influence  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

We  are  more  especially  warned  to  guard  against  self- 
deception  as  to  our  repentance.  We  are  told  how  far 
an  accusing  conscience  may  carry  us,  and  yet  leave  us 
at  as  great  a  distance  as  ever  from  true  conversion  of 
heart.  We  are  called  on  to  look  at  Judas  becoming  his 
own  accuser,  openly  acknowledging  his  guilt,  vindi- 
cating his  Master,  and  condemning  himself;  and  while 
we  are  ready  to  commiserate  his  sufferings,  and  almost 
admiring  his  boldness,  we  are  reminded  that  at  this 
very  moment  he  was  as  much  a  son  of  perdition,  as 
when  with  a  treacherous  kiss  he  betrayed  his  Lord. 
Not  that  his  confession  was  hypocritical,  or  his  repent- 
ance superficial  or  assumed.  No  confession  could  be 
more  sin'tere,  no  sorrow  more  genuine,  no  fear  more 
agitating.  And  yet  he  perished,  perished  not  because 
his  sin  was  too  great  for  the  blood  of  Christ  to  cleanse, 
and  the  mercy  of  God  to  pardon  it,  but  because  he 
wanted  those  things,  without  which  the  most  severe 
compunctions,  and  the  liveliest  feelings,  and  the  most 
splendid  gifts  are  nothing  worth.  And  what  are  those 
things  ?  A  heart-felt  abhorrence  of  sin,  a  conviction  of 
the  deeply  seated  and  desperate  wickedness  of  the  soul, 
a  spirit  of  grace  and  supplication,  an  earnest  wrestling 
with  God  for  his  pardoning  mercy.  These  are  the 
things  which  accompany  salvation,  and  he  who  is  desti- 
tute of  these  is  yet  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God,  is 


444  The  Repentance  of  Judas. 

utterly  alienated  from  him,  a  stranger  to  his  covenant 
of  promise,  and  an  heir  of  his  wrath. 

We  are  tuught  also  that  a  profession  of  attachment  to 
Christ  aggravates  the  guilt  of  sin  ^  and  renders  an  indul- 
gence in  It  peculiarly  dangerous.     The  holy  Jesus  will 
not  be  wounded  in  the  house  of  those  who  call  them- 
selves his  friends,  without  manifesting  his  indignation 
against  them,  and  vindicating  before   a   blaspheming 
world  the  holiness  and  majesty  of  his  own  great  name. 
His  open  enemies  he  can  bear  with,  convert,  and  par- 
don ;  while  the  pretended  friend  is  exposed  to  scorn, 
blasted,. and  destroyed.    Judas  had  suffered  much  per- 
haps for  his  sake,  and  had  given  him  many  proofs  of 
his  love ;   but  there  was  one  sin  which  Judas  loved 
better  than  Christ,  and  that  one  sin,  though  it  was  a 
secret  and  a  decent  one,  blighted  all  his  graces,  and 
withered  all  his  prospects.   He  was  covetous,  and  cove- 
tousness  led  him  to  apostacy,  despair,  and  death.  Take 
heed  therefore,   brethren,  that  you  hold  not  the  truth 
in  unrighteousness.    Beware  of  secret  sin,  and  more 
especially  of  that  sin,  which,  while  it  subjects  men  to 
little  or  no  reproach,   hardens  the  heart,  deadens  the 
conscience,    surrounds    them    with    temptations    and 
snares,  pierces  them  through  with  many  sorrows,  and 
at  length  drowns  them  in  destruction  and  perdition. 
"  Take  heed  and  beware  of  covetousness.    Be  content 
with  such  things  as  ye  have.  Love  not  the  world,  nei- 
ther the  things  that  are  in  the  world."    Dread  nothing 
more  than  a  profession  of  religion   without  principle, 
the  form  of  godliness  without  its  transforming  power^ 
a  Christian  creed  with  a  worldly  and  heathen  heart. 

The  repentance  and  end  of  this  fallen  apostle  remind 
us,  lastly,  that  no  man  can  be  a  gainer  by  sin.  When  he 
first  received  tiie  thirty  pieces  of  silver  from  the  chief 


The  Repentance  of  Judas.  443 

priests,  Judas  undoubtedly  felt  a  momentary  gratifica- 
tion, and  pleased  himself  with  the  thought  of  increasing 
and  permanently  enjoying  his  ill  gotten  treasure;  but 
he  had  scarcely  obtained  possession  of  it,  when  ne  be- 
came anxious  to  part  with  it,  and  cursed  the  hour,  in 
which  he  had  sold  his  peace  of  conscience  for  so  mean 
a  price.  And  thus  is  it  with  sin  of  every  kind,  and  un- 
der all  possible  circumstances.  It  is  treacherous  and 
destructive.  It  offers  us  pleasure,  but  it  is  a  pleasure 
which  ends  in  the  bitterness  of  death.  The  losses  we 
sustain  by  it  are  real,  great,  and  many  ;  its  gains  a  mere 
show,  an  empty  delusion,  the  sweetness  of  the  cup 
which  is  charged  with  poison,  the  beauty  of  the  serpent 
whose  bite  is  death.  a 

And  yet  Judas  is  not  the  only  professor  of  the.  gospel, 
whom  sin  has  deceived  and  ruined.  Thousands,  who 
once  seemed  fair  as  he,  have  been  overcome  by  it  and 
perished.  For  the  sake  of  averting  some  threatening 
difficulty,  or  attaining  some  fancied  good,  they  have 
consented  to  betray  their  Lord.  Professing  themselves 
his  friends,  they  have  taken  counsel  with  his  enemies, 
deserted  his  cause,  and  been  ashamed  of  his  name. 
And  what  have  they  gained  ?  "  They  have  sold  them- 
selves for  nought."  But  what  have  they  lost  ?  All  that 
once  enriched,  and  dignified,  and  cheered  them;  yea, 
they  have  lost  their  soul,  and  all  that  they  have  gained 
by  the  sacrifice  is  a  wounded  spirit,  an  accusing  con- 
science, a  foretaste  of  wrath.  Let  their  fall  be  a  warning 
to  us.  It  may  well  make  all  of  us  tremble,  but  it  need 
not  lead  one  of  us  to  despair ;  for  their  guilt  may  be 
avoided,  and,  if  not,  their  end  may  be  escaped.  The 
same  Scriptures,  which  show  us  a  Judas  rushing  to  his 
own  dreadful  place  in  eternity,  tell  us  of  a  once  faithless 
Peter  now  rejoicing  in  glory,  a  dying  thief  entering  into 


446  The  llepentance  of  Judas. 

paradise,  a  persecuting  Saul  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of 
that  Jesus  whom  he  once  injured,  and  triumphing  in 
that  cross  which  he  once  despised.  There  is  but  one 
sin,  from  the  guilt  of  which  the  blood  of  Christ  will 
not  cleanse  us,  and  that  sin  is  despair,  a  rejection  of 
his  mercy,  an  unbelief  of  his  word.  He  that  believeth, 
though  he  were  once  a  betrayer  and  a  persecutor,  shall 
be  saved ;  but  he  that  believeth  not,  though  he  under- 
stand all  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel,  and  speak  with  the 
tongue  of  men  and  of  angels  in  its  praise,  though  he 
have  tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift,  and  been  agitated  and 
warmed  by  the  word  of  God  and  the  powers  of  the 
world  to  come,  though  he  have  gloried  in  the  reproach 
of  Christ,  and  given  his  body  to  be  burned  for  his  sake 
—that  man  shall  be  condemned?  accursed,  lost. 


SERMON  XXIX. 


THE  REPENTANCE  OF  PETER. 


ST.  LUKE  xxii.  60,  61,  62. 

^nd  immediately  while  he  yet  sfiake  the  cock  creiv.  And  the  Lord 
turned  and  looked  ufion  Peter,  and  Peter  remembered  the  word  of 
the  Lord,  hoiv  he  had  said  unto  him,  "  Be/ore  the  cock  crow  thou 
shalt  deny  me  thrice."  And  Peter  went  out,  and  wefit  bitterly. 


\S  E  have  in  the  fall  and  restoration  of  the  apostle 
Peter,  a  sad  instance  of  human  frailty,  and  a  most  affect- 
ing proof  of  the  divine  mercy.  The  one  is  recorded  to 
warn,  the  other  to  encourage  us.  While  the  one  bids 
the  most  confident  fear,  the  other  offers  consolation  to 
the  most  sorrowful,  and  hope  to  the  most  desponding. 

The  words  of  the  text  afford  us  a  description  of  the 
repentance,  by  which  he  was  recovered  from  his  fallen 
state,  and  they  direct  us  to  consider,  jirst.,  the  means, 
by  which  it  was  produced ;  secondly.,  the  sorrow,  which 
accompanied  it ;  and,  thirdly,  the  effects,  by  which  it 
was  followed. 

I.  1.  The  repentance  of  Peter  is  ascribed,  in  the  first 
instance,  to  a  circumstance  apparently  unimportant. 
When  David  sinned  against  the  Lord,  a  prophet  was 
commissioned  to  call  him  to  repentance.  An  angel  is 
sent  down  from  heaven  to  reprove  the  transgressing  Ba- 
laam, and  winds  and  storms  are  employed  to  remind 
the  disobedient  Jonah  of  his  guilt.  But  when  his  be- 
loved disciple  has  forsaken  and  denied  him,  the  Saviour, 
strong  in  th^  omnipotence  of  his  own  arm,  calls  not  to 


448  The  Repentance  of  Peter. 

his  aid  the  ministry  of  a  prophet  or  an  angel,  nor  the 
terrors  of  a  tempest,  but  accomplishes  his  work  of 
mercy  as  promptly  and  as  effectually  by  the  mere  crow- 
ing of  a  cock,  by  means  which  plainly  declare  that  he 
has  power  to  make  all  things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  who  love  him,  and  can  render  the  most  feeble  in- 
struments effectual  to  restore  and  sanctify  their  souls. 
At  his  command,  the  voice  of  a  bird  is  made  to  preach 
repentance  to  Peter,  and  many  a  sinner  has  been  taught 
to  weep  and  to  pray,  by  events  which  have  appeared  as 
accidental  and  as  trifling.  How  observant  then  ought 
we  to  be  of  all  which  surrounds  or  befals  us ;  and  how 
anxious  to  obtain  from  it  instruction  in  righteousness ! 
How  earnest  should  we  be  in  the  use  of  means,  when 
we  see  that  God  seldom  works  without  them  ;  and  how 
little  trust  ought  we  to  place  in  them,  when  we  remem- 
ber that  they  owe  all  their  efficacy  to  the  operation  of 
his  hand ! 

2.  To  his  agency  the  repentance  of  Peter  must  be 
traced,  for  the  text  ascribes  it,  secondly,  to  the  inierpo- 
sition  of  Christ.  Without  this,  the  warninii:  voice  of  the 
cock  would  have  been  heard  in  vain  ;  nay,  it  was  hetud 
in  vain,  for,  as  Saint  Mark  informs  us,  it  had  reached 
his  ear  immediately  after  his  first  denial  of  his  Master, 
and,  instead  of  interrupting  him  in  his  wickedness,  had 
suffered  him  to  repeat  and  aggravate  his  crime.  It  was 
the  look  of  Christ,  which  gave  it  at  the  second  time  all 
its  power,  and  enabled  it  to  silence  his  oaths,  to  pene- 
trate into  his  inmost  soul,  and  to  arouse  the  conscience 
which  was  slumbering  there.  ^'  The  Lord  turned  and 
looked  upon  Peter,"  and  then  Peter  remembered  the 
word  of  the  Lord,  and  went  out  and  wept.  And  what, 
brethren,  are  all  the  warnings  of  Providence,  however 
signal  or  frequent,  when  unaccompanied  by  the  grace 


The  Repentance  of  Peter.  449 

of  God  ?  They  are  powerless  as  sounding  brass,  and 
no  more  able  to  convert  the  soul  than  a  tinkling  cymbal. 
But  what  are  they  when  attended  with  this  grace  ?  The 
quick  and  powerful  weapons  of  the  living  God,  sharper 
than  any  two-edged  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  di- 
viding asunder  of  soul  and  spirit,  startling  the  sinner  in 
his  midnight  slumbers,  and  giving  life  and  feeling  to 
the  dead.  He  only,  who  formed  the  heart  at  first,  can 
renew  it  again  to  repentance.  He  only  can  keep  alive 
the  penitence,  to  which  his  own  grace  has  given  birth, 
and  re-animate  it  when  weakened  or  destroyed. 

3.  But  what  followed  the  look,  which  the  compas- 
sionate Saviour  directed  towards  his  fallen  apostle?  It 
was  a  look  of  the  mildest  reproof  and  of  the  tenderest 
pity?  but  it  was  more  powerful  than  the  lightning's  flash. 
Piercing  his  heart,  it  produced  there  that  serious  reflec- 
tioUf  from  which  his  repentance  sprung.  It  forced  me- 
mory to  do  its  work,  to  bring  before  his  mind  the  pride 
he  had  manifested,  the  warnings  he  had  slighted,  the 
vows  he  had  broken,  the  goodness  he  had  abused,  and 
the  complicated  crimes  he  had  committed.  The  sinner 
came  to  himself.  *'  He  remembered  the  word  of  the 
Lord,"  and  when  he  thought  thereon  he  wept.  And 
this  is  the  usual  method,  in  which  repentance  is  wrought 
and  renewed  in  the  soul.  It  is  preceded  by  thoughtful- 
ness,  by  reflection.  Indeed  one  of  the  original  words, 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  employed  to  describe  it,  sig- 
nifies to  think  of  an  action  or  event  that  is  passed  with 
a  deep  and  anxious  concern. 

Sin  quiets  the  conscience  and  paralyzes  all  the  powers 
of  the  mind.  It  causes  the  declarations  of  God  to  be 
forgotten,  and  the  dispensations  of  his  Providence  to 
pass  unheeded.  It  fills  the  soul  with  the  concerns  of 
the  present  scene,  and  makes  it  as  regardless  of  the  in- 

3  L 


450  jf  lie  Repenta n ce  of  Peter. 

visible  world,  as  though  there  were  no  happiness  there 
which  it  could  lose,  no  misery  which  it  could  inherit. 
But  the  Lord  does  not  suffer  those,  who  are  truly  his, 
to  remain  for  ever  in  this  insensible  state.  He  calls 
them  out  of  it,  and  often  by  means,  which  seem  but 
little  calculated  to  lead  to  so  gracious  an  end.  Some 
passing  event,  some  apparently  casual  circumstance 
which  makes  no  impression  on  others,  arrests  their  at- 
tention, and  assumes  the  overpowering  importance  of  a 
messenger  of  God.  It  fastens  itself  on  their  minds, 
awakening  there  a  long  train  of  reflections,  recalling  to 
their  remembrance  periods  and  events  in  their  history 
which  they  had  long  ceased  to  think  of,  and  giving  rise 
to  feelings  which  seem  to  have  perished  for  ever.  The 
seed,  which  had  lain  buried  in  the  earth,  now  springs 
up,  and  buds,  and  brings  forth  its  fruit.  The  declara- 
tions of  Scripture,  the  exhortations  of  ministers,  the 
admonitions  of  friends,  the  convictions  of  conscience, 
all  the  means  of  grace  which  had  been  forgotten  or  de- 
spised, are  now  brought  with  force  and  freshness  into 
the  mind,  and  affect  and  agitate  it.  The  once  thought- 
less sinner  pauses,  trembles,  and  prays.  The  cold- 
hearted  backslider  remembers  from  whence  he  is  fallen, 
and  repents.  The  declining  Christian  shakes  himself 
from  the  dust,  and  in  the  midst  of  contrition  and  tears, 
recovers  the  love  and  vigour,  which  he  seemed  to 
have  lost. 

II.  But  the  transition  from  a  state  of  sin  to  a  state  of 
grace,  from  impenitence  to  contrition,  from  spiritual 
deadness  to  spiritual  fervour,  though  cheered  by  many 
feelings  of  gratitude  and  joy,  is  never  wholly  unattended 
with  sorrow.  Peter  was  brought  to  repentance,  but 
there  was  an  anguish  of  spirit  accompanying  his  resto- 
ration, which  the  evangelist  does  not  and  could  not  de- 


The  Repentance  of  Peter.  45 1 

scribe.     He  tells  us  however,  how  it  was  manifested. 
"  Peter  went  out  and  wept  bitterly." 

1.  His  sorrow  was  therefore  of  a  softening  nature. 
*'  He  wept."  It  was  not  that  horror  of  soul,  which  has 
its  origin  in  fear,  and  leaves  the  heart  as  hard  as  it  finds 
it.  It  was  that  sorrow,  which  springs  from  love,  and  fills 
the  breast  with  the  tenderest  emotions,  while  it  dis- 
quiets and  humbles  it.  Not  that  tears  are  certain  signs 
of  real  penitence,  for  they  are  often  the  effects  of  a  na- 
tural tenderness,  of  mortified  pride,  or  of  bodily  weak- 
ness, rather  than  of  spiritual  contrition.  The  profane 
Esau  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept  when  suffering  under 
the  consequences  of  his  folly,  and  even  in  hell  there  is 
weeping  and  wailing.  But  though  there  may  be  tears 
without  penitence,  yet  there  is  no  real  penitence  where 
these  are  wanting.  He,  who  has  never  yet  wept  for  sin, 
has  never  felt  its  bitterness.  The  Christian  is  described 
as  bemoaning  himself,  as  sowing  in  tears,  as  turning  to 
the  Lord  with  mourning,  as  going  on  his  way  to  Zion 
weeping ;  and  no  man  must  imagine  himself  possessed 
of  the  Christian's  contrite  spirit,  whose  sighs  are  not 
often  entering  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord,  and  whose  tears 
are  not  treasured  up  in  his  vials. 

2.  But  the  sorrow  of  Peter  was  acute,  as  well  as 
softening.  He  not  only  wept,  but  he  wept  "  bitterly." 
And  bitterly  does  every  sinner  weep,  who  really  bewails 
his  transgressions.  The  sorrow  connected  with  true  re- 
pentance is  not  only  sincere,  it  is  deep  and  pungent. 
It  not  only  enters  into  the  heart,  but  it  penetrates  into 
its  inmost  recesses,  and  there  lives  and  reigns.  It  not 
only  causes  the  tear  to  flow,  but,  in  the  strong  language 
of  Scripture,  it  afflicts  the  soul,  cutting  and  rending  it. 
It  causes  the  transgressor  to  feel  the  misery  of  sin  as 
he  confesses  it,  and  to  smite  on  the  breast  as  he  asks 


152  Tlie  Repentance  of  Peter. 

for  mercy ;  to  take  up  and  to  understand  this  declaration 
of  the  propliet,  "^  The  spirit  of  a  man  will  sustain  his 
infirmity,  but  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  V  Nay, 
it  is  compared  to  the  most  acute  and  bitter  sorrow, 
which  can  find  a  place  in  the  human  breast ;  to  the  sor- 
row, which  chills  the  heart  and  racks  the  soul  of  the 
parent,  as  he  mourns  the  loss  of  a  son,  of  an  only  son, 
and  him  a  first-born  ;  such  lamentation  as  Sarah  would 
have  made  over  the  grave  of  Isaac,  such  anguish  as 
Hannah  would  have  cherished  at  the  death  of  Samuel, 
the  child  of  her  many  tears  and  strong  desires.  When 
the  spirit  of  grace  is  poured  out  on  Jerusalem,  we  are 
told  that  "  they  shall  look  on  him,  whom  they  have 
pierced,  and  mourn  for  him,  as  one  that  mourneth  for 
his  only  son  ;  and  shall  be  in  bitterness  for  him,  as  one 
that  is  in  bitterness  for  his  first-born,  in  that  day  there 
bhall  be  a  great  mourning  in  Jerusalem,  as  the  mourn- 
ing of  Hadadrimmon  in  the  valley  of  Megiddon." 

3.  The  sorrow  of  Peter  was,  further,  a  secret  sorrow ; 
a  grief,  which  sought  retirement.  "  He  went  out"  when 
he  wept.  Not  that  he  was  now  afraid  to  acknowledge 
Christ,  or  unwilling  to  condemn  himself  for  the  crime 
which  he  had  committed  j  but,  like  penitent  Kphraim, 
he  was  ashamed,  yea,  even  confounded ;  and,  like  the 
agitated  Joseph,  he  sought  where  to  give  vent  to  his 
sorrow  unseen,  and  to  implore  undisturbed  that  mercy, 
which  he  so  greatly  needed.  And  every  real  penitent  is 
oft€n  *'  sitting  alone."  Flying  from  scenes  of  vanity 
which  he  once  loved,  and  from  society  which  his  folly 
once  enlivened,  he  retires  to  his  chamber  and  his  closet, 
and  there,  when  he  has  shut  his  door,  he  communes 
with  his  heart,  prays  to  his  offended  Father,  and  weeps. 
He  is  not  indeed  unwilling  to  tell  his  Christian  friends 
of  his  spiritual  troubles,  nor  anxious  to  conceal  from 


The  Repentance  of  Peter.  453 

them  his  shame ;  but  there  are  seasons,  when  he  feels 
so  overpowering  a  sense  of  his  sinfulness,  so  tender 
and  deep  a  sorrow,  that  the  presence  of  the  dearest 
friend  cannot  be  borne,  and  the  soul  must  be  left  a!one 
with  its  God.  Thus  the  publican  stood  afar  off,  when 
he  prayed  in  the  temple  ;  and  thus,  in  the  latter  days, 
the  penitent  Jews  will  mourn,  every  family  apart,  and 
every  member  of  it  in  secret.  Here  then  is  a  lesson  for 
those,  whose  consciences  are  awakened  and  whose 
hearts  are  softened.  Love  retirement.  Fly  from  a  se- 
ducing world.  Converse  little  with  others,  but  much  . 
with  yourselves.  The  tears  of  contrition  are  seldom 
shed  in  a  crowd,  and  the  deepest  workings  of  penitence 
must  be  weakened  and  eventually  stifled  in  the  company 
of  the  light-hearted,  the  worldly,  and  the  vain. 

Ill,  We  have  thus  traced  the  means,  by  which  the 
repentance  of  Peter  was  wrought,  and  we  find  it 
ascribed  to  a  circumstance  apparently  unimportant,  to 
the  interposition  of  Christ,  and  to  the  influence  of  re- 
flection. We  have  considered  also  the  sorrow,  which 
accompanied  it,  and  have  learned  that  it  was  softening, 
acute,  and  secret.  Let  us  now  follow  the  apostle 
beyond  the  scene  of  his  humiliation,  and  enquire  what 
effects  his  repentance  afterwards  produced  in  his 
conduct. 

1.  True  repentance  is  invariably  followed  by  some 
effects,  and  those  visible  and  permanent.  It  produced  in 
Peter  an  mcreasing  love  for  his  Lord.  Scarcely  was  Je- 
sus risen,  when,  mindful  of  his  sorrowful  disciples,  he 
sent  his  angel  to  announce  to  them  the  glad  tidings  of 
his  triumph;  and,  by  desiring  these  tidings  to  be  deli- 
vered particularly  to  Peter,  he  assured  him  that  not- 
withstanding his  base  disowning  of  him,  he  still  re- 
garded him  as  his  apostle  and  friend.    This  assurance 


454  The  Repentance  of  Peter. 

of  his  Redeemer's  love  did  not  however  elate  the  fallen 
disciple.  It  did  not  restore  his  former  self-confidence, 
but  it  restored  his  peace,  and  added  fresh  warmth  and 
strength  to  that  afFfction,  which  glowed  in  his  breast. 
With  what  eager  hasie  did  he  run  to  the  forsaken  se- 
pulchre !  The  beloved  John  paused  when  he  reached 
It,  and  hesitated  before  he  entered  it ;  but  Peter  had 
not  time  to  examine  and  calculate.  He  entered  at  once 
into  the  conquered  grave,  that  he  might  behold  there 
the  memorials  of  his  Master's  conquest. 

And  look  at  him  again  on  the  sea  of  Tiberias.  *'  It 
is  the  Lord,"  said  John  as  he  beheld  the  Saviour  stand- 
ing on  the  shore,  and  the  sound  had  no  sooner  reached 
his  ears,  than  the  ardent  Peter,  impatient  of  delay, 
sprang  into  the  sea  and  hastened  to  the  shore.  And 
who  can  describe  the  scene,  which  followed  ?  Who 
can  enter  into  the  feelings,  which  melted  the  heart  of 
Peter  as  he  prostrated  himself  at  his  Master's  feet  ?  And 
who  can  describe  the  overflovving  tenderness  and  love 
of  that  Master's  heart?  None  but  those,  who  have 
tasted  of  hi^  pardoning  mercy,  and  enjoyed,  while  lying 
low  in  the  dust,  the  sweet  and  elevating  outpourings 
of  his  grace. 

2,  His  repentance  was  followed  also  by  greater  zeal 
and  boldness  in  the  service  of  Christ.  Look  at  him,  bre- 
thren, in  the  hall  of  Ananias,  and  behold  there  a  cow- 
ardly, trembling  apostate.  There  the  tempter  triumphed 
in  the  weakness  and  siiame  of  his  victim,  for  that  was 
his  hour  and  the  power  of  darkness.  But  look  at  him 
after  the  hand  of  God  had  humbled  him,  and  behold  a 
noble  and  undaunted  apostle,  asserting  in  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem  the  divinity  of  him,  whom  but  a  short  time 
before  he  had  feared  to  own  as  his  friend  ;  standing 
foremost  among  his  brethren  to  declare  his  greatness, 


The  Bepentance  of  Petev.  455 

and  to  reprove  those  who  had  shed  his  blood ;  led  from 
triJDunal  to  tribunal,  and  driven  from  country  to  coun- 
try ;  every  where  persecuted  for  the  sake  of  Christ, 
and  every  where  rejoicing  that  he  was  counted  worthy 
to  suffer  shame  for  his  name.  And  in  the  midst  of  all 
this  invincible  boldness,  behold  this  very  apostle  re- 
membering the  sin,  which  had  disgraced  him ;  going 
to  prison  and  to  judgment,  to  the  torture  and  the  cross, 
mingling  the  tears  of  penitence  with  the  songs  of  praise. 
This  was  indeed  a  triumph  for  the  gospel.  Here  a 
mighty  God  glorified  his  grace,  brought  evil  out  of 
good,  forced  the  fall  of  his  servant  to  magnify  the  power 
which  raised  him  up  again,  and  testified  that  his  mighty 
arm  can  take  the  reed,  shivering  before  every  breath 
that  blows,  and  make  it  firm  as  a  mountain,  standing 
unmoved  before  the  most  impetuous  winds,  and  lift- 
ing up  its  head  to  heaven  uninjured  by  the  wildest 
storms. 

The  pardoned  transgressor  then  can  be  at  no  loss  to 
discover  what  these  things  were  designed  to  teach  him. 
They  call  upon  him  to  cherish  the  most  fervent  love 
for  his  Saviour,  and  to  fear  neither  suifering  nor  shame 
in  his  service.  To  talk  of  our  convictions  and  assurance, 
of  the  tears  we  have  shed,  and  the  grace  we  have  expe- 
rienced, while  our  life  manifests  no  love  for  our  Re- 
deemer, and  our  tongue  is  silent  in  his  praise,  is  idle; 
it  is  worse  :  it  is  hypocritical  and  sinful.  If  we,  like 
Peter,  are  mournidg  in  secret  over  our  iniquity,  and 
rejoicing  in  a  sense  of  forgiveness,  like  him  we  are 
boldly  confessing  Ciirist  in  public,  honouring  him 
among  those  who  despise  him,  and  deeming  it  our 
highest  glory  to  bear  his  reproach.  Our  affection  is  in 
some  measure  proportioned  to  the  mercy  we  have  re- 
ceived.   At  any  rate  it  is  sincere,  active,  constraining,! 


456  The  Repentance  of  Peter, 

Whatever  the  religion  of  others  may  be,  ours  cannot 
be  lukewarm.  There  is  an  energy  in  it,  a  decision,  a 
savour.  The  remembrance  of  our  guilt,  and  of  the 
grace  which  pardoned  it,  and  of  the  blood  which  pur- 
chased this  grace,  will  be  ever  rising  in  our  minds ; 
exciting  the  most  lively  thankfulness,  and  prompting 
us  to  the  most  devoted  obedience.  We  shall  be,  in 
short,  what  Peter  was,  liable  to  many  infirmities,  but 
in  the  midst  of  them  all  acting  like  men,  to  whom  a 
dying  Saviour  is  precious,  and  who  count  all  things  but 
loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus 
their  Lord. 

The  lesson,  which  this  display  of  mercy  addresses  to 
the  penitent  sinner,  is  equally  obvious.  No  one  can  fail 
to  perceive  that  it  was  designed  to  encourage  him,  to 
pour  balm  into  his  wounded  conscience,  and  the  oil  of 
joy  into  his  broken  heart.  It  bids  him  banish  the  de- 
spair, which  is  tormenting  him,  and  welcome  that 
mercy,  which  is  w^aiting  to  refresh  him.  It  shows  him 
that  very  Jesus,  who  is  now  seated  on  the  throne  of  the 
universe,  and  invested  there  with  infinite  power  to  save, 
trembling  at  the  prospect  of  his  own  sufferings,  and 
yet  pausing  to  exercise  his  compassion  ;  troubled  with 
a  foretaste  of  his  mysterious  agonies,  and  yet  mindful 
of  an  unfaithful  servant,  unwilling  to  die  till  he  had 
saved  him  from  destruction,  and  eager  when  risen  again 
to  restore  peace  to  his  soul.  And  could  he,  brethren, 
have  left  you  in  his  dying  hour  a  stronger  proof  of  the 
tenderness  of  his  mercy  ?  Could  you  even  desire  a 
more  encouraging  assurance  of  the  boundless  extent  ot 
bis  love  ?  He  knew  that  you  would  need  strong  conso- 
lation, and  here  he  has  provided  it  for  you.  Rejoice  in 
it,  and  be  thankful.  \our  case  may  iildeed  be  peculiarly 
distressing.  Sins  of  no  common  heinousness  may  have 


The  Repentance  of  Peter.  457 

sunk  you  into  a  depth  of  misery,  from  which  hope 
seems  for  ever  excluded.  But  your  sins  are  not  wiorc 
aggravated  than  the  crimes  of  Peter,  nor  is  your  anguish 
more  bitter.  And  what  though  they  were?  Who  showed 
you  the  greatness  of  your  guilt?  Who  opened  your 
eyes  to  discover  your  danger  ?  Who  singled  you  out 
from  among  a  thoughtless  crowd,  and  taught  you  to 
reflect,  and  weep,  and  pray  ?  The  same  almighty  Sa- 
viour, who  humbled  and  pardoned  his  cursing  disciple. 
The  same  eye,  which  brought  him  to  repentance,  is 
now  fixed  on  you.  The  same  hand,  which  snatched  him 
from  perishing,  is  already  stretched  out  in  your  behalf- 
Your  great  and  continual  sorrow  of  heart  is  a  token  of 
the  Lord's  special  love.  It  is  a  proof  that  though  he 
may  have  spoken  against  you  as  he  spake  against 
Ephraim,  he  earnestly  remembers  you  still,  that  his 
bowels  are  troubled  for  you,  that  he  is  even  now  pre- 
paring a  blessing- for  every  sigh  that  you  heave,  a  com- 
fort for  every  tear.  In  his  own  good  time  he  will  surely 
have  mercy  upon  you  ;  and  in  order  to  the  immediate 
outpouring  of  this  mercy,  all  he  requires  of  you  is  to 
apply  to  that  blood  which  he  so  freely  shed  for  your 
sakes,  and  to  believe  in  its  efficacy ;  to  give  credit  to 
his  promises,  and  to  rely  on  his  word. 

But  what  is  the  language  of  the  text  to  the  impenitent? 
It  tells  them  that  by  resisting  the  strivings  of  conscience 
and  stifling  its  convictions,  they  are  sinning  against  their 
own  souls,  and  rejecting  the  only  means,  which  can  re- 
store them  to  the  happiness  they  have  lost.  Heart-felt 
sorrow  for  sin  is  not  opposed  to  happiness.  The  exam- 
ple of  Saint  Peter  shows  us,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  is 
the  appointed  means  of  leading  the  wandering  sufferer 
back  to  the  source  of  all  consolation.  The  tears  of  peni- 
tence, are  not  tears  of  unminglcd  bitterness.    There  is 

3  M 


458  The  Repentance  of  Peter. 

a  joy  connected  with  them,  which  is  as  satisfying  and 
exahing,  as  it  is  purifying  and  humbling.  God  himself 
has  pronounced  the  sorrow  of  the  poor  in  spirit  blessed, 
and  he  has  not  blessed  it  in  vain.  His  people  taste  its 
sweetness.  Their  happiest  hours  are  those,  which  are 
spent  in  the  exercise  of  penitence  and  faith,  and  while 
these  graces  are  in  lively  exercise,  they  envy  not  the 
inhabitants  of  heaven. 

But  present  happiness  is  not  the  only  fruit  of  spiri- 
tual repentance.  Heaven  is  connected  with  it,  an  eter- 
nity of  uninterrupted  blessedness.  They  who  sow  in 
tears  are  destined  to  reap  in  joy.  They  who  now  mourn 
in  Zion  are  the  appointed  inheritors  of  the  heavenly 
city,  and  the  future  companions  of  those  who  are  now 
walking  in  its  streets. 

Who  then  will  despise  so  rich  a  gift,  so  dearly  pur- 
chased, so  freely  offered.  Who  will  not  rather  seek  it 
with  all  the  energy  of  his  soul  at  the  throne  of  his  ex- 
alted Lord.  To  be  subdued  with  godly  sorrow  is  to  be 
an  accepted  child  of  God,  a  jewel  in  the  Saviour's 
crown,  an  heir  of  glory.  To  die  with  the  heart  unhum- 
bled  is  to  enter  a  world  of  darkness,  to  dwell  for  ever 
in  a  kingdom  of  proud  rebellion  and  never  ending  an- 
guish. Humble  yourselves  therefore,  brethren,  under 
the  mighty  hand  of  God.  Tremble  at  his  word.  Grieve 
not  his  Holy  Spirit.  Admit  him  into  your  hearts,  that 
he  may  soften  them.  Welcome  his  awakening  influence. 
Desire  nothing  more  than  a  broken  and  a  contrite  spirit. 
Dread  nothhig  so  much  as  a  proud  and  hardened  heart. 


SERMON  XXX. 


THE  CONFESSION  OF  PHARAOH. 


EXODUS  ix.  27,  28. 

^tid  Pharaoh  sent  and  called  for  Moses  and  Aaron,  and  said  unto 
them,  "  /  have  sinned  this  ti?ne.  The  Lord  is  righteous,  and  I  and 
my  people  are  wicked.  Entreat  the  Lord,  for  it  is  enough,  that  there 
be  no  more  mighty  thunderings  and  hail,  and  I  ivill  let  you  go,  and 
ye  shall  stay  no  longer" 


Our  apostacy  from  God,  though  we  have  lost  by  it 
all  disposition  to  perform  any  of  the  duties  we  owe  him, 
has  materially  increased  their  number.  All  the  obliga- 
tions, which  were  originally  laid  on  us  as  creatures,  still 
remain  in  their  full  force,  while,  as  sinners,  we  have 
brought  on  ourselves  new  and  more  arduous  duties. 
Among  these  is  the  confession  of  our  guilt,  a  duty  so 
frequently  and  so  solemnly  inculcated  in  the  Scriptures, 
that  no  man  who  has  any  regard  for  their  authority  has 
ever  denied  its  necessity,  or  doubted  its  importance. 
But  this,  as  well  as  every  other  fruit  of  the  Spirit,  has 
its  counterfeit.  There  is  a  spurious  confession  of  sin, 
as  well  as  a  spurious  repentance  ;  not  merely  a  formal 
and  hypocritical,  but  a  sincere  and  heart-felt  confession, 
which  is  not  acceptable  to  God,  and  brings  down  no 
forgiveness  from  his  throne. 

This  assertion  may  perhaps  appear  to  some  of  us 
harsh  and  unfounded,  but  the  text  confirms  its  truth.  It 
contains  as  sincere  an  acknowledgment  of  sin,  as  ever 
proceeded  from  any  one  of  ourselves;  while  we  know 


460  The  Confession  of  Pharaoh. 

that  he  who  made  it  lived  the  daring  enemy  of  God, 
and  died  impenitent  and  unpardoned.  Mindful  then  of 
our  liability  to  self-deception,  and  supplicating  the  aid 
of  that  Spirit,  who  only  can  make  the  subject  on  which 
we  are  entering  effectual  to  save  us  from  it,  let  us  con- 
sider, first,  the  resemblance,  which  the  confession  of 
Pharaoh  bears  to  true-confession  of  sin  ;  secondly^  its 
difference  from  it ;  and,  thirdly ^  the  lessons,  which  it  is 
calculated  to  teach  us. 

1.  1.  The  resemblance  of  the  confession  before  us 
to  the  language  of  true  contrition  is  striking  and  close. 
It  was  open,  made  not  to  a  partizan  or  friend  in  the  se- 
crecy of  retirement;  l)ut  to  Moses  and  Aaron  in  public ; 
to  the  very  men,  whose  presence  was  likely  to  fill  the 
sinner  with  the  greatest  shame,  and  to  require  of  him 
the  most  mortifying  concessions. 

2.  It  was  accompanied  also  with  a  sense  of  guilty  and 
that  not  confined  to  one  transgression  only,  but  extend* 
ing  to  the  general  conduct  of  himself  and  his  subjects. 
Like  Judas,  he  says,  "  I  have  sinned  this  time,"  but 
he  does  not,  like  Judas,  end  there.  He  goes  further, 
and  in  language  similar  to  that  of  the  penitent  David, 
and  the  contrite  publican,  he  says,  *'  I  and  my  people 
are  wicked." 

3.  It  is  remarkable  too,  that  like  David,  he  considered 
his  guih  as  an  offence  against  God.  In  the  sixteenth 
verse  of  the  following  chapter,  we  find  him  declaring 
that  he  had  sinned  against  the  Lord,  as  w^ell  as  against 
his  servants,  and  again  beseeching  Moses  and  Aaron  to 
entreat  the  Lord  their  God  for  him,  and  to  supplicate 
the  removal  of  his  judgments. 

4.  But  this  was  not  all.  The  confession  of  Pharaoh 
included  in  it  an  acknowledgment  of  the  justice  of  God 
in  inflicting  these  judgments.    They  were  great  and 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  461 

heavy,  but  he  does  not  complain  of  their  severity.  He 
complains  only  of  his  own  sins,  which  had  so  justly 
drawn  them  on  his  head.  "  The  Lord,"  says  he,  '♦  is 
righteous,  and  I  and  my  people  are  wicked."  And 
herein  also  he  closely  resembled  the  real  penitent.  Such 
a  man  is  not  only  conscious  that  he  has  incurred  the 
wrath  of  God,  but  he  feels  that  this  fearful  wrath  is  only 
the  just  desert  of  his  offences ;  that  were  he  this  mo- 
ment to  be  cast  into  hell,  his  trembling  lips  must  even 
there  join  in  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb,  and  say 
in  the  midst  of  his  miseries,  "  True  and  righteous  are 
thy  judgments,  O  Lord  God  Almighty.  Just  and  true 
are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  saints."  He  not  only  pleads 
guilty  before  God,  but  he  passes  on  himself  the  sen- 
tence of  everlasting  death,  and  counts  every  thing  less 
than  this  death  goodness  and  mercy.  Thus  David  felt. 
"  Against  thee,  thee  only,  have  I  sinned,"  says  he, 
'*  and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight  5  that  thou  mightest  be 
justified  when  thou  speakest,  and  clear  when  tliou 
judgest."  Thus  too  the  prophet  Daniel  spake.  When 
he  prayed  unto  the  Lord  his  God  and  made  his  confes- 
sion, he  was  not  satisfied  with  saying,  "  We  have 
sinned,  and  have  committed  iniquity,  and  done  wick- 
edly ;"  but  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  O  Lord  righteousness 
belongeth  unto  thee,  but  unto  us  confusion  of  facts  as 
at  this  day,  to  the  men  of  Judah  and  to  the  inhabitants 
of  Jerusalem,  to  our  kings,  to  our  princes,  and  to  our 
fathers,  because  we  have  sinned  against  thee."  And 
then,  though  he  and  his  countrymen  were  captives  in 
the  land  of  their  enemies,  he  adds,  "  To  the  Lord  our 
God  belong  mercies  and  forgiveness,  though  we  have 
rebelled  against  him." 

Now  to  these  feelings,  brethren,  mankind  in  general 
are  utter  strangers.    When  we  are  in  shame  and  in 


46 S  The  Confession  of  Pharaoh. 

trouble,  our  chief  concern  generally  is  to  clear  our- 
selves, not  to  vindicate  a  chastising  God.  So  far  from 
regarding  our  wickedness  as  great,  and  our  iniquities 
as  infinite,  so  far  from  deeming  everlasting  destruction 
our  merited  portion,  we  think  that  a  few  tears  and 
prayers  can  wash  out  all  our  guilt,  and  that  God  would 
be  both  unmerciful  and  unjust  were  he  to  consign  us 
to  vengeance.  We  profess  to  have  more  liberal  ideas 
of  the  Deity,  and  are  even  shocked  at  the  denunciations, 
which  are  sometimes  repeated  in  our  hearing  from  his 
word.  Offenders  against  every  command  of  our  Sove- 
reign, criminals  condemned  to  die  by  every  law  to 
which  we  can  appeal,  creatures  suffering  day  by  day 
under  the  present  effects  of  sin,  and  often  trembling  at 
the  prospect  of  its  future  consequences,  surrounded 
with  the  dying  and  the  dead,  and  Ccirrying  about  within 
ourselves  the  seeds  of  corruption,  we  yet  think,  and 
speak,  and  act,  as  though  sin  had  no  curse  attached  to 
it,  and  the  terrors  of  hell  no  more  reality  than  the  illu- 
sions of  a  dream. 

5.  There  were  also  some  good  resolutions  connected 
with  the  confession  of  Pharaoh.  He  determined,  and 
the  determination  appears  to  have  been  sincere,  that  he 
would  no  longer  oppose  the  departure  of  the  Israelites, 
nor  repeat  the  sin,  which  had  provoked  the  God  of  Is- 
rael to  wrath.  "  Entreat  the  Lord,"  says  he,  "  that  there 
be  no  more  mighty  thunderings  and  hail,  and  1  will  let 
you  go,  and  ye  shall  stay  no  longer." 

6.  Thus  far  then  all  is  well.  We  have  in  this  sinner 
a  sincere  and  open  confession  of  sin,  accompanied  with 
a  sepse  of  guilt,  with  an  acknowledgment  that  this  guilt 
was  an  offence  against  God,  with  a  vindication  of  his 
righteous  judgments,  and  a  fixed  resolution  to  provoke 
him  to  anger  no  more.    Nay,  this  confession  seems  to 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  463 

go  still  farther,  and  to  include  in  it  a  conviction  of  the 
divine  mercy.  We  see  not  in  this  awakened  transgres- 
sor the  wild  fear  of  Cain,  nor  the  despair  of  Judas.  On 
the  contrary,  he  remembers  that  there  is  mercy  with 
God,  and  intimates  his  belief  that  he  is  ready  to  hear  and 
to  answer  the  prayer  of  his  servants. 

Now  all  these  things  are  connected  with  true  repen- 
tance, so  closely  and  inseparably  connected  with  it,  that 
where  one  of  them  only  is  wanting,  there  every  thing 
is  wanting,  whicli  can  render  our  confessions  pleasing 
to  the  Lord.  But  these  things  do  not  necessarily  prove 
that  our  repentance  is  real.  Pharaoh  was  not  a  penitent, 
though  he  bore  so  strong  a  resemblance  to  one.  His 
confession  was  sincere,  but  it  was  not  spiritual.  It  re- 
sembled the  language  of  true  repentance,  but  at  the 
same  time  it  differed  essentially  from  it. 

II.  1.  In  attempting  to  trace  this  difference,  we  may 
observe,  first,  that  it  was  a  yorcef/ confession,  extorted 
from  him  by  the  sufferings  he  endured,  and  the  fear  of 
still  heavier  judgments.  It  was  the  confession  of  a  cri- 
minal on  the  rack,  not  the  free  and  voluntary  acknow- 
ledgment of  a  returning  rebel,  casting  himself  at  his 
monarch's  feet.  Affliction,  when  it  is  severe,  generally 
produces  conviction,  and  sometimes  a  sincere  and  open 
confession.  When  the  troubles  of  life  press  heavily  on 
our  heads,  when  lover  and  friend  are  put  far  from  us 
and  our  acquaintance  into  darkness,  when  we  are  faint- 
ing on  the  bed  of  sickness  and  are  in  expectation  of 
immediate  dissolution,  when  our  fear  cometh  as  a  deso- 
lation, and  we  think  that  our  destruction  is  coming  as 
a  whirlwind,  then  we  feel  that  God  is  contendinar  with 
us,  and  we  are  constrained  to  cry  out  with  the  alarmed 
Pharaoh,  *' I  have  sinned."  But  such  convictions, 
though  they  may  lead  to  repentance,  are  no  proofs  that 


464  The  Confession  of  Pharaoh, 

we  are  already  penitent.  That  grief,  which  is  genuine, 
needs  no  judgments  to  call  it  into  exercise.  It  is  free 
and  spontaneous,  flowing  from  the  heart,  through  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  naturally  as  streams  flow 
from  a  fountain.  Affliction  may  indeed  be  employed  to 
revive  and  increase  it,  but  it  mourns  and  weeps  in  the 
hour  of  mercy,  as  well  as  in  the  day  of  tribulation.  It 
mingles  with  our  joy  in  the  season  of  health,  as  well  as 
waters  our  couch  with  tears  in  the  time  of  sickness. 

If  we  would  know  the  real  state  of  our  hearts,  bre- 
thren, wc  must  lay  very  little  stress  on  those  emotions, 
which  are  excited  within  us  on  particular  occasions, 
and  under  any  extraordinary  circumstances,  or  indeed 
by  any  outward  causes  whatsoever.  We  must  learn 
our  true  character  from  the  feelings,  which  arise  from 
ourselves,  from  our  inward  principles  and  inclinations. 
The  point  to  be  ascertained  is  not  what  kind  of  men 
we  are  in  affliction  or  in  sickness,  in  the  house  of  God 
or  in  the  society  of  his  servants ;  but  what  is  the  frame 
of  our  minds  when  these  excitements  are  withdrawn, 
and  we  are  left  to  ourselves.  What  are  we  in  reti.»-ement? 
What  are  we  on  our  beds?  What  are  we  in  our  fami- 
lies ?  What  are  we  in  our  daily  intercourse  with  the 
world  ? 

2.  The  confession  of  Pharaoh  differed  from  a  true 
confession  in  this  respect  also — it  was  unaccojnpanied 
ivith  humiliation  before  God,  When  Moses  came  to  him 
at  first  with  a  message  from  Jehovah,  he  exclaimed, 
'^  Who  is  the  Lord  that  I  should  obey  his  voice?"  and 
the  spirit,  which  prompted  this  reply,  was  never  sub- 
dued. It  manifests  itself  in  the  text.  He  promises  to 
let  the  Israelites  go  in  obedience  to  the  command  of 
their  God,  but  he  at  the  same  time  wishes  to  treat  with 
the  Almighty  as  an  equal,  prescribing  conditions,  and 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  465 

even  refusing  his  obedience  unless  those  conditions 
were  previously  granted.  He  demands  that  his  thunder- 
ings  and  lightnings  should  first  cease,  and  then  he  con- 
sents to  send  his  people  away.  This  attitude  of  proud 
independence  he  maintained  to  the  very  last.  He  re- 
peatedly  besought  Moses  and  Aaron  to  entreat  for  him, 
but  he  disdained  to  bend  the  knee  himself.  He  trem- 
bled at  the  judgments  of  the  Lord,  but  though  they 
laid  waste  his  country,  and  cut  off  his  first-born,  he 
still  refused  to  humble  himself  before  him. 

This  spirit  of  independence  is  the  bane  and  curse  of 
our  fallen  nature.  The  very  essence  of  our  depravity 
consists  in  it.  We  will  not  have  God  to  reign  over  us. 
We  are  rebels  and  traitors  against  him,  and  no  threat- 
enings,  no  convictions,  no  chastisements,  can  prevail 
on  us  to  acknowledge  his  authority.  They  can  terrify, 
but  they  cannot  humble  us.  They  can  make  us  confess 
our  guilt,  but  they  cannot  make  us  pray  for  the  pardon 
of  it.  They  can  destroy,  but  they  cannot  bend  us. 
Pharaoh  perished  rather  than  ask  for  mercy.  Judas 
hung  himself  rather  than  supplicate  forgiveness.  Satan 
himself,  though  he  has  been  racked  for  ages  with  re- 
morse and  has  all  the  vengeance  of  the  Almighty  rest- 
ing upon  his  head,  still  lifts  up  himself  against  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel,  and  is  not  only  the  most  wretched 
being  in  the  universe,  but  the  proudest. 

Now  true  repentance  begins  with  destroying  this 
spirit.  It  forces  the  creature  to  acknowledge  the  autho- 
rity of  his  Creator,  to  see  his  dependence  on  him,  and 
the  service  he  owes  him.  It  lays  the  sinner  in  the  dust 
before  his  offended  God.  It  places  a  man,  where  he  was 
originally  designed  to  be,  and  where  the  loftiest  arch- 
angel rejoices  to  be,  prostrate  before  the  footstool  of 
the  Lord,   Look  at  Paul.   He  was  once  a  haughty  per- 

r>  N 


1'6{5  The  Confession  of  Pharaoh, 

sccutor;  he  is  now  brought  to  repentance,  and  "Be- 
hold he  prayeth;"  and,  falling  to  the  earth,  he  says  to 
that  very  Jesus,  against  wliom  he  had  exalted  himself, 
"  Lord  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do."  Look  at  Ma- 
nasseh.  Who  was  more  hardened  than  he  ?  But  when 
omnipotence  and  grace  caused  his  affliction  to  bring 
his  sin  to  remembrance,  "  he  humbled  himself  greatly 
before  the  God  of  his  fathers,  and  prayed  unto  him." 
3.  The  confession  of  Pharaoh  was  defc  ctive  also  in 
another  respect — it  was  not  succeeded  by  an  entire  re- 
nunciotion  of  sin.  Refusing  to  humble  himself  before 
God,  he  paid  no  more  attention  to  his  commands  than 
fear  extorted  from  him.  Under  the  smart  of  his  rod  he 
promised  obedience  ;  but  no  sooner  was  each  succeed- 
ing plague  removed,  than  he  sinned  yet  the  more.  And 
when  at  length  he  yielded  for  a  season,  it  was  solely 
from  the  influence  of  fear.  He  gave  up  what  he  was 
afraid  to  keep,  and  absolutely  compelled  to  renounce. 
And  it  is  thus  with  many  in  the  present  day,  who  ima- 
gine themselves  penitents.  They  love  sin  as  much  as 
ever  they  loved  it.  It  has  still  the  throne  in  their  hearts, 
living  and  reigning  within  them.  But  they  dare  not  in- 
dulge it  as  they  once  did.  They  know  that  death  and 
judgment  are  near,  and  the  thought  of  the  one  and 
the  fear  of  the  other,  constrain  them  to  consent  to  a 
partial  surrender  of  what  they  would  still  deem  it  their 
highest  happiness  to  retain.  But  this  is  not  the  case 
where  repentance  is  genuine.  It  causes  a  man  to  hate 
the  sin  which  he  renounces,  yea,  to  hate  all  sin  with  a 
detestation  equal  to  his  former  love  of  it,  He  conse- 
quently strives  to  mortify  and  subdue  it.  His  spirit 
wars  against  it  in  whatever  manner  it  assails  him,  or 
whatsoever  shape  it  assumes.  It  still  besets  him,  grieves 
him,  and  sometimes  overcomes  him  5  but  there  is  no 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  467 

wish  to  retain  or  spare  it ;  there  is  no  effort  to  compro- 
mise matters  with  God.  He  does  not  ask,  "  How  far 
may  I  indulge  my  lusts,  and  yet  be  safe  ?  How  much 
love  may  I  have  for  the  world,  and  yet  escape  con- 
demnation ?"  but,  *'  What  right  hand  have  1  yet  to  cut 
off?  What  right  eye  have  I  yet  to  pluck  out?  What 
lurking  sin  still  remains  to  be  discovered  and  over- 
come ?  Search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my  heart ;  try 
me,  and  know  my  thoughts.  O  that  my  ways  were  di- 
rected to  keep  thy  statutes  !  Make  me  to  go  in  the  path 
of  thy  commandments,  for  therein  do  1  delight.  Order 
my  steps  in  thy  word,  and  let  not  any  iniquity  have  do- 
minion over  me." 

4.  But  even  if  the  confession  of  Pharaoh  had  not 
been  defective  in  these  things,  had  it  been  ever  so  vo- 
luntary and  free,  accompanied  with  the  deepest  humi- 
liation, and  the  most  entire  renunciation  of  every  known 
sin,  there  was  yet  another  point  of  difference  between 
it  and  a  genuine  confession,  and  that  a  most  important 
and  ruinous  difference.  It  was  not  habitual  and  lasting. 
The  convictions  from  which  it  sprung,  were  as  tempo- 
rary as  the  judgments  which  gave  rise  to  them,  and 
he,  who  feared  and  trembled  one  hour,  hardened  his 
heart  the  next. 

But  the  repentance,  from  which  true  confession  pro- 
ceeds, is  as  lasting  as  our  existence  ;  and  it  is  its  per- 
manent, its  abiding  nature,  which  proves  it  to  be  the 
repentance,  which  God  has  blessed.  That  sorrow  for 
sin,  which  is  the  effect  of  heated  passions  only,  will 
surely  die  away,  and  tiiat  which  proceeds  from  re.morse 
of  conscience,  is  seldom  lasting ;  but  that  contrition, 
which  is  lodged  in  the  soul  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  no- 
thing can  destroy ;  no  length  of  time  can  efface  it,  no 
sense  of  pardon  can  weaken  it.    It  is  indeed  regulated 


468  The  Confession  of  Pharaoh. 

and  modified  by  time,  and  tiie  blood  of  Christ,  when 
applied  to  the  conscience,  by  taking  from  it  its  bitter 
pangs,  causes  it  to  assume  a  new  character  ;  but  it  does 
not  diminish  its  activity  or  strength  ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  increases  both,  rendering  the  humiliation  of  the  be- 
liever more  liabitual,  and  his  contrition  more  deep  and 
tender.  His  penitence  grows  in  the  exact  degree,  in 
which  his  faith  and  consolation  abound,  and  never 
ceases  growing  till  it  is  lost  in  the  joys  of  heaven.  And 
who  can  say  that  these  joys  will  destroy  it  ?  Who  can 
say  that  the  Christian  does  not  take  with  him  into  the 
presence  of  God  a  remembrance  of  his  former  guilt, 
and  add  to  the  fervour  of  his  love,  and  the  ardour  of 
his  praise  by  confessing  it  before  his  throne  ? 

Repentance  then  is  not  an  act,  it  is  a  habit ;  not  a 
duty  to  be  performed  once  in  a  man's  life,  and  then  to 
be  thought  of  no  more,  it  is  to  be  our  daily  work,  our 
hourly  employment.  Thus,  as  history  tells  us,  Peter 
repented;  ^nd  thus  David  mourned.  It  is  thus  too  that 
we  ourselves  shall  mourn,  if  the  arrows  of  the  Lord 
have  really  stricken  us.  Through  all  the  scenes  of  our 
life,  our  sins  will  be  ever  before  us  ;  and  when  death  is 
sent  to  us,  he  will  find  us  sorrowing  still.  The  scene 
of  our  greatest  penitence  will  be  the  chamber,  in  which 
we  breathe  our  last.  There  may  be  confidence,  there 
may  be  peace,  there  may  even  be  triumph  in  our  dying 
moments,  but  they  will  be  marked  with  a  sorrow  for 
sin  more  lively  than  we  have  ever  before  experienced, 
with  a  lowliness  of  spirit  inferior  only  to  the  humility 
of  angels. 

III.  Such  was  the  confession  of  Pharaoh.  The  les- 
sons it  teaches  us  are  as  important  as  they  are  obvious. 
It  shows  us,  first,  the  great  need  of  self-examination. 
And  let  us  not  despise  the  lesson.    A  mistake  here  is 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  469 

fatal,  and  the  least  reflection  is  sufficient  to  convince  us 
how  easy  it  is  to  mistake  in  this  matter,  yea,  how  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  avoid  deceiving  ourselves.  We  have  seen 
how  far  the  confession  of  Pharaoh  went.  It  was  sincere. 
He  really  meant  what  he  said.  When  he  spake  of  his 
wickedness  he  felt  it,  and  feared  the  judgments  of  the 
Lord  on  account  of  it.  Has  your  repentance  been  of 
this  kind  ?  Have  the  confessions  you  have  uttered  this 
day  proceeded  from  a  feeling  and  fearful  heart  ?  When 
you  said  that  you  were  miserable  sinners,  were  you 
honest  in  the  declaration  ?  Alas,  brethren,  to  how  many 
of  us  might  it  be  said,  "  Thou  hast  not  lied  unto  men 
but  unto  God !" 

But  even  were  it  otherwise,  even  if  our  consciences 
bore  witness  to  the  sincerity  of  our  acknowledgments, 
this  is  not  the  only  point  to  be  ascertained.  We  may 
have  confessed  our  sins  from  our  heart,  but  has  that 
heart  been  humble,  lowly,  obedient?  Instead  of  going 
about  to  establish  our  own  righteousness,  are  we  sub- 
mitting ourselves  to  the  righteousness  of  God?  Are 
we  praying,  as  well  as  trembling  ?  Is  our  contrition 
habitual  ?  Are  its  sighs  breathed  in  our  chambers,  and 
its  tears  shed  in  our  closets,  as  well  as  its  language 
heard  in  this  church,  and  among  our  Christian  friends? 
Is  it  sanctifying?  Have  we  given  up  every  known  sin  ; 
and  though  still  burdened  with  iniquity,  are  we  striving 
to  throw  off  the  burden,  and  to  perfect  holiness  in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord? 

This  subject  shows  us  also  the  extreme  depravity  of 
the  human  heart.  We  see  here  a  man  persevering  in 
disobedience  in  the  face  of  the  most  awful  judgments. 
Sign  succeeds  sign,  plague  is  followed  by  plague,  wdn- 
ders  of  wrath  are  wrought  around  him ;  and  yet  the 
haughty  Pharaoh  still  lifts  up  himself  against  the  Lord 


470  The  Confession  of  Pharaoh. 

God  Almighty,  and  on  the  wreck  of  his  property,  his 
country,  and  his  family,  he  maintains  to  the  very  last 
his  proud  rebellion.  And  such  would  be  the  conduct 
of  each  of  us,  if  the  mighty  hand  of  God  did  not  re- 
strain and  bridle  us.  The  dispositions  which  this  man 
inaniftsted,  were  not  peculiar  to  him.  They  are  the 
common  fruits  of  our  corrupt  nature  ;  they  are  visible 
in  all  the  human  race ;  they  are  working  in  our  own 
breasts.  We  ourselves  have  manifested  them.  We  have 
withstood  many  of  the  judgments  of  God,  abused 
many  of  his  mercies,  refused  to  abandon  many  of  our 
sins.  There  is  not  one  of  us,  who,  if  left  to  himself, 
would  not  become  as  hardened  as  Pharaoh,  as  guilty  as 
Judas.  Remove  the  barrier,  which  infinite  mercy  has 
placed  before  our  lusts,  and  the  stream  of  sin  will  rush 
on  with  dreadful  impetuosity,  and  bear  us  to  our  ruin. 
A  mortal  poison  is  raging  within  us ;  let  but  the  great 
Physician  cease  to  counteract  it,  and  we  are  lost.  What 
inference  then  are  we  to  draw  from  this  dreadful  fact  ? 
The  same  that  our  church  has  already  drawn  for  us. 
'^  We  cannot  turn  and  prepare  ourselves,  by  our  own 
natural  strength,  to  faith  and  calling  upon  God"  We 
need  ihe  transforming  power,  the  effectual  working  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.  We  must  seek  repentance  as  a  gift  of 
mercy  at  the  throne  of  God. 

We  may  see  further,  the  folly  of  trusting  in  convic- 
tions. The  history  of  Pharaoh  proves  that  a  sense  of 
guilt  and  a  fear  of  punishment  are  no  evidences  of  a 
converted  heart.  And  yet  how  many  professors  of  the 
gospel  are  grounding  all  their  hopes  of  salvation  on 
their  remorse  and  fears  !  They  are  at  seasons  deeply 
im'pressed  by  sermons,  and  greatly  alarmed  by  afflic- 
tions. Or  if  these  things  have  now  lost  their  effect  on 
them,  they  remember  the  time  when  they  made  them 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  47 1 

fearful  and  wretched.  On  these  grounds  alone,  while 
they  manifest  no  love  to  God  in  their  conduct,  and  are 
altogether  averse  to  his  laws,  they  conclude  that  their 
condition  is  safe,  that  their  hearts  have  been  renewed, 
and  their  sins  forgiven.  But  this,  brethren,  is  an  awful 
delusion.  Pharaoh  could  produce  such  evidences  of 
piety  as  these,  and  not  Pharaoh  only,  but  Felix,  and 
Judas,  and  Cain,  and  ten  thousand  others,  who  are 
groaning  in  misery  ;  yea,  Satan  himself  has  been  trem- 
bling and  repenting  for  ages,  and  will  repent  constantly 
and  bitterly  for  ever.  Remorse  is  not  penitence.  Con- 
viction is  not  conversion.  Fear  is  not  grace. 

But  while  we  are  reminded  of  the  folly  of  trusting 
in  convictions,  we  are  at  the  same  time  taught  the  guilt 
and  danger  of  stifling  them.  They  cannot  save  the  soul, 
but  they  are  designed  to  make  us  feel  our  need  of  sal- 
vation, and  to  lead  us  for  it  to  him,  who  is  the  great 
Saviour  of  the  lost !  They  are  in  fact  messengers  of 
mercy,  but  many  of  us  treat  them  as  though  we  deemed 
them  our  enemies.  We  love  the  sin,  which  they  con- 
demn. We  are  determined  to  persevere  in  our  pursuit 
of  worldly  vanities,  and  we  are  therefore  impatient  of 
the  checks  of  conscience,  and  use  a  variety  of  'Expe- 
dients, to  silence  its  remonstrances.  And  our  efforts 
are  sometimes  cursed  with  a  dreadful  success.  An  ex- 
ternal religion,  a  partial  reformation,  or  something 
equally  delusive  and  unprofitable,  quiets  the  conscience, 
while  sin  reigns  over  the  soul  with  absolute  and  unre- 
sisted sway.  But  in  what  a  storm  of  fiery  indignation 
will  this  fearful  calm  end !  Judgments  despised  and 
afflictions  stifled,  are  the  forerunners  of  approaching 
wrath.  They  are  signs  that  the  sinner  has  not  a  moment 
to  lose,  that  he  must  this  very  instant  turn  and  repent,"'" 
or  be  abandoned  for  ever  and  sealed  for  destruction,  A 


47S  The  Confessio7i  of  Pharaoh. 

jealous  God  will  not  be  trifled  with.  They,  who  have 
despised  his  warnings  shall  feel  his  vengeance.  He  will 
first  give  them  up  to  a  hardened  heart,  and  then,  when 
the  measure  of  their  iniquities  is  full,  he  will  suddenly 
destroy  them  and  that  without  remedv.  He  will  eive 
them  the  quietness  of  a  seared  conscience  for  a  season, 
and  afterwards  the  torment  of  the  never  dying  worm 
forever.  Trifle  no  longer  then  with  his  judgments; 
despise  his  chastenings  no  more.  Cherish  the  convic- 
tions which  still  remain,  and  which  perhaps  are  ready 
to  die.  Welcome  the  bitterest  afflictions,  poverty  and 
sickness,  shame  and  contempt ;  ask  the  prisoner  for  his 
chains,  and  the  tortured  criminal  for  his  rack,  rather 
than  provoke  a  wearied  God  to  say  concerning  you, 
"  He  is  joined  to  idols;  let  him  alone." 

There  is  yet  another  lesson  to  be  learned  from  the 
subject  before  us.  It  seems  indeed  on  the  first  view  to 
speak  to  us  only  of  the  depravity  of  man,  and  the  awful 
justice  of  God,  but  to  what  subject  of  meditation  can 
we  turn,  which  does  not  remind  us  of  the  divine  mercy? 
Look  at  this  rebellious  Egyptian.  Behold  him  setting 
the  Almighty  at  defiance,  and  yet  no  sooner  does  he 
confess  his  iniquity,  than  the  avenging  thunders  and 
lightnings  cease.  Again  he  refuses  obedience,  and  again 
the  judgments  of  the  Lord  are  poured  out ;  but  he  again 
seeks  to  avert  them  by  repentance,  and  they  are  again 
withdrawn.  If  therefore  such  a  confession  from  such  a 
sinner  thus  availed  with  God,  what  may  the  really  con- 
trite transgressor  expect  at  his  hands  ?  What  mercy 
will  be  denied  him  ?  What  blessing  withheld  ?  A  har- 
dened Pharaoh,  as  well  as  a  weeping  Peter,  declares  to 
us  that  the  lost  and  the  guilty  will  never  seek  pardon  in 
vain.  "  If  we  confess  our  sins,"  says  the  Scripture, 
^'  God  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,"  to 


The  Confession  of  Pharaoh.  473 

forgive  them,  not  because  we  confess  them,  not  because 
our  repentance  can  purchase  forgiveness,  but  because 
the  blood  of  his  Son  has  purchased  it,  and  because  he 
has  bound  himself  by  the  most  solemn  promises  to  par- 
don freely,  fully,  and  for  ever,  all  who  come  to  him 
pleading  the  merit  of  his  obedience,  and  trusting  in  his 
blood.  "  He  is  not  a  man  that  he  should  lie,  neither  the 
son  of  man  that  he  should  repent;"  and  as  long  as  he 
remains  a  God  of  faithfulness  and  truth,  so  long  is  every 
broken-hearted  sinner  warranted  to  cast  the  heavy  bur- 
den of  his  sins  on  his  crucified  Lord,  and  to  rejoice  in 
that  Saviour,  who  bare  them  all  in  his  own  body  on 
the  tree. 


O 


SERMON  XXXI. 


THE  SCAPE  GOAT  A  TYPE  OF  CHRIST. 


LEVITICUS  XVi.   21,  22. 

^-Ind  ^aron  shall  lay  both  his  hands  ufion  the  head  of  the  live  goat,  and 
confess  over  iiim  all  the  iniquities  of  the  children  of  Israel,  and  all 
their  transgressions  in  all  their  sins,  /tutting  them  u/ion  the  head  of 
the  goat ;  and  shall  send  him  aivay  by  the  hand  of  a  ft  man  into  the 
ivilderr/e.ss  :  and  the  g'-at  shall  bear  upon  him  all  thiir  inigui'ies  unto 
a  land  not  inhabited  ;  and  he  shall  let  go  the  goat  in  the  tuUderness. 


X  HERE  were  many  ordinances  under  the  Mosaic  dis- 
pensation, which  seem  to  have  had  a  very  slight  refer- 
ence to  the  gospel;  at  least  they  were  such  imperfect 
and  dark  shadows  of  its  blessin^^s,  that  we  find  it  diffi- 
cult even  now  to  trace  the  resemblance.  The  ordinance 
mentioned  in  the  text,  was  not  however  of  this  kind. 
It  directs  us  at  once  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  is 
so  plain  and  comprehensive  in  its  application  to  him, 
that  it  appears  to  have  been  written  to  explain  to  us,  as 
well  as  to  prefigure  to  the  Jews,  the  method  of  salva- 
tion through  his  blood.  We  may  perhaps  obtain  a  cor- 
rect idea  of  it,  by  considering,  Jirstf  the  typical  sacri- 
fice here  enjoined ;  secondly^  the  conduct,  which  the 
high-priest  was  commanded  to  observe  with  respect  to 
it ;  and,  thirdly,  the  benefits  resulting  from  his  obedi- 
ence lo  this  command. 

I.  We  arc  to  consider,  first,  the  typical  sacrifice^ 
which  is  here  enjoined.  It  was  a  live  goat.  But  we 
must  not  look  at  this  living  sacrifice  alone.  By  referring 


The  Scape-Goat^  &c.  475 

to  the  fifth  verse  of  this  chapter,  we  find  that  there  was 
another  goat  set  apart  at  the  same  time,  which  was  slain 
as  a  sin-ofiering  before  the  Lord,  and  the  blood  of 
which  was  carried  within  the  vail  and  sprinkled  in  the 
usual  manner  on  the  mercy-seat.  Both  these  animals 
were  therefore  to  be  considered  by  the  Jews  as  a  joint 
object  of  their  faith.  They  were  in  fact  but  one  sacri- 
fice, or  different  parts  of  the  same  ordinance  ;  the  one 
which  was  offered  us  as  a  victim,  prefiguring  the  death 
of  Christ,  and  the  other  which  was  sent  away  alive,  al- 
luding  perhaps  to  his  resurrection  and  ascension. 

1.  As  we  contemplate  this  typical  sacrifice,  we  may 
observe,  first,  that  it  xvas  appointed  by  God,  and  not  by 
man.  Aaron  was  not  allowed  to  take  any  animal  that 
he  pleased  as  a  victim  on  this  occasion.  He  was  par- 
ticularly commanded  to  take  two  kids  of  the  gouts,  and 
every  part  of  the  ceremony  connected  with  the  offering 
of  them  was  enjoined  by  God.  Why  these  animals 
M'cre  selected  we  know  not ;  but  it  is  of  importance  to 
observe  that  they  were  selected  by  God,  and  that  no 
other  would  have  been  accepted  by  him  in  their  stead. 
Thus  was  Christ  the  great  sacrifice,  set  apart  by  God 
himself  as  a  sin-offering  for  his  guilty  church.  He  was 
chosen  of  God  to  bear  their  sins,  and  to  be  the  ap- 
pointed means  of  obtaining  remission  for  them.  Hence 
when  he  cometh  into  the  world,  he  says,  '^  Lo,  I  come 
to  do  thy  will,  O  God.  Sacrifice  and  offering  thou 
wouldest  not,  but  a  body  hast  thou  prepared  me.  Weil 
pleased  no  more  with  the  burnt-offerings  of  thine  of- 
fending creatures,  taking  no  bullock  out  of  their  house, 
nor  he-goat  out  of  their  fold,  thou  hast  appointed  me, 
the  partner  of  thy  throne,  to  become  the  sinner's  sub- 
stitute, and  hast  prepared  for  me  a  mortal  nature  that 
I  may  die  in  th^inner's  stead."  If  therefore,  the  great 


476  The  ScapeMoat 

atonement  for  our  sins  was  thus  provided  for  us  by  the 
very  Being,  against  whom  our  sins  were  committed,  it 
follows  that  it  is  an  atonement  fully  equal  to  our  trans- 
gressions, an  all-prevailing  atonement,  a  sufficient  sa- 
crifice, an  oblation  that  fully  satisfies  an  offended  God. 
2.  There  is  another  remark  closely  connected  with 
this  to  be  inferred  from  the  text — the  sacrifice  enjoined 
in  it,  derived  ail  its  value  and  efficacy  from  the  divine 
appointment.  One  goat  was  slain  and  the  other  was  sent 
into  the  wilderness,  and  then  all  the  iniquities  of  the 
children  of  Israel  were  pardoned  ;  but  they  were  not 
pardoned  on  account  of  any  virtue  that  dwelt  in  these 
animals.  The  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats  had  no  more 
power  to  take  away  sin  then,  than  it  has  now.  Had  not 
God  enjoined  these  rites,  they  would  undoubtedly  have 
incensed  rather  than  appeased  him.  Aaron  might  have 
brought  into  his  sanctuary  the  blood  of  ten  thousand 
victims,  but  "  To  what  purpose  is  the  multitude  of 
your  sacrifices  unto  me,"  would  have  been  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Lord.  "  When  ye  come  to  appear  before 
ine,  who  hath  required  this  at  your  hands  to  tread  my 
«  courts?"  But  this  was  the  way,  in  which  the  Israelites 
were  commanded  to  seek  pardon,  and  through  these 
means  God  was  pleased  to  dispense  it. 

We  are  very  prone,  brethren,  to  look  upon  ordinan- 
ces and  means  of  grace  as  the  fountains  of  the  mercy 
"we  receive,  rather  than  as  the  channels,  through  which 
mercy  is  conveyed  to  us.  Because  certain  effects  ge- 
nerally proceed  from  certain  causes,  we  consider  them 
as  necessarily  connected  with  those  causes,  and  pro- 
ceeding from  them  without  any  interposition  of  divine 
love  or  power.  But  this  opinion  has  its  origin  in  low 
ideas  of  the  Almighty,  or  rather  in  forgeifulness  of 
him.    There  is  no  other  connection  b^wcen  any  cause 


a  Type  of  Christ.  ^*t*i 

and  its  usual  effects^  than  that,  which  God  was  pleased 
at  first  to  establish  and  still  continues  to  preserve,  it 
would  be  as  easy  for  him  to  eficct  a  complete  change 
in  what  we  call  the  natural  order  of  things,  as  to  main- 
tain it  as  it  is.  It  would  require  no  greater  exercise  of 
his  power  to  cause  water  to  consume  the  earth,  or  fire 
to  bedew  it,  than  to  refresh  it  with  shovversor  to  scorch 
it  with  lightnings.  To  remind  us  of  this  truth  and  to 
constrain  us  to  acknowledge  him  as  the  universal  Lord 
of  all  things,  he  sometimes  departs  from  his  ordinary- 
mode  of  using  the  instruments  he  has  made,  and  ac- 
complishes his  purposes  by  means,  which  are  in  fact 
just  as  powerful  to  fulfil  them  as  any  means  he  could 
have  employed,  but  which  by  their  strangeness  and 
seeming  weakness  prove  his  agency  and  vindicate  his 
power.  At  his  command,  the  stream  of  Jordan  heals 
the  leprosy  of  Naaman ;  the  cruse  of  salt  cures  the 
spring  of  bitter  water;  the  sound  of  the  rams'  horns 
shakes  to  the  ground  the  walls  of  Jericho. 

It  is  from  this  appointment  of  God,  that  the  death  of 
Christ  derives  its  sovereign  virtue.  It  is  the  appointed 
means,  by  which  the  Almighty  has  determined  to  grant 
remission  or  sins  through  the  riches  of  his  grace.  The 
Christian  sees  a  propriety  in  this  sacrifice,  a  magnifi- 
cence and  a  glory  which  cast  into  the  shade  every  other 
display  of  Jehovah's  greatness,  but  he  does  not  ground 
his  hopes  of  salvation  on  this  propriety  and  glory,  lie 
looks  for  pardon  through  Christ  because  God  has  set 
him  forth  to  be  a  propitiation  for  sin,  and  has  com- 
manded the  guilty  and  perishing  to  look  to  him  and  be 
saved.  He  is  justified  by  his  sufferings  and  righteous- 
ness, but  their  justifying  efficacy  consists  in  their  hav- 
ing been  made  *'  the  power  of  God  to  salvation  to  every 
one  that  believeth." 


478  The  Scape- Goat 

II.  It  appears  then  that  the  sacrifice  here  enjoined 
was  of  divine  appointment,  and  that  it  owed  all  its  effi- 
cacy to  this  circumstance.  Let  us  now  proceed  to 
consider,  secpndly,  the  conduct,  which  Aaron  was 
commanded  to  observe  with  respect  to  it. 

The  mere  appointment  of  these  two  animals  as  a  sin- 
offerins^  was  not  sufficient  to  atone  for  the  sins  of  the 
Israelites  :  the  one  must  be  slain  as  a  victim,  and  the 
other  must  be  presented  before  the  Lord  and  have  a 
particular  ceremony  performed  over  it,  before  Israel 
can  be  pardoned.  • 

1.  A  part  of  this  ceremony  consisted  in  the  confes- 
ston  of  sin.  '''  Aaron  shall  lay  both  his  hands  upon  the 
h'r'ad  of  the  live  goat,  and  confess  over  him  all  the  ini- 
quities of  the  cliiidren  of  Israel,  and  all  their  transgres- 
sions in  all  their  sins."  This  confession  generally  pre- 
ceded every  sacrifice,  and  as  soon  as  the  high-priest  had 
pronounced  it,  all  the  priests  and  people  around  him 
bowed,  and  fell  dov\n  on  their  faces,  and  worshipped 
God.  But  on  this  occasion  it  was  to  be  made  with 
peculiar  exactness.  It  is  not  said  that  Aaron  shall  con- 
fess the  iniquities  of  the  children  of  Israel,  but  "  all 
their  iniquities  and  all  their  transgressions  in  all  their 
sins."  We  are  thus  reminded  that  a  general  confession 
of  sin  is  not  all  that  is  required  of  us.  We  are  called 
on  to  be  very  earnest  in  our  effijrts  to  become  acquaint- 
ed with  the  full  extent  of  our  depravity:  to  be  often 
looking  into  our  heart  and  reviewing  our  life,  and  to 
be  particular  and  minute  in  acknowledging  the  sins, 
which  we  discover  there. 

But  who  can  count  the  number  of  his  transgressions 
or  estimate  their  guilt?  None  but  God.  Thousands 
of  the  sins,  which  we  were  conscious  of  when  they 
were  committed^  have  been  long  since  forgotten  ;  and 


(t  Type  of  Christ.  479 

ten  thousand  more  have  been  added  to  their  number, 
which  we  have  never  thought  of:  and  yet  a  holy  God 
numbers  them  all.  The  book  of  his  remembrance 
stands  open  every  moment  before  his  face,  and  in  that 
book  are  all  our  transgressions  written.  Even  now  he 
is  setting  our  misdeeds  before  him,  and  our  secret  sins 
in  the  light  of  his  countenance.  This  is  a  serious  re- 
flection, brethren  ;  but  if  it  really  makes  us  serious 
and  prayerful,  the  Scripture  before  us  is  calculated  to 
inspire  us  with  hope,  rather  than  to  disquiet  us  with 
fear. 

2.  It  tells  us  that  the  high-priest,  after  having  con- 
fessed over  the  goat  the  sins  of  the  people,  was  to  trans- 
fer them  to  the  victim  before  him.  He  was  to  put  them 
on  its  head,  thus  intimating  that  their  guilt,  as  far  as 
their  liability  to  punishment  was  included  in  it,  no 
longer  rested  on  the  Israelites,  but  on  the  devoted  ani- 
mal, on  whom  his  hands  were  laid.  The  spiritual  mean- 
ing of  this  ceremony  is  plain.  It  was  designed  to  teach 
us  figuratively  the  same  blessed  truth,  which  has  now 
been  revealed  to  u&  without  a  figure,  and  which  consti- 
tutes the  substance  and  glory  of  the  gospel,  that  Christ 
has  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law  being  made 
a  curse  for  us  ;  that  he  bare  our  sins  in  his  own  body 
on  the  tree  ;  that  the  Lord  hath  laid  on  his  eternal  Son 
the  iniquities  of  us  all,  and  that  every  transgressor,  who 
by  a  lively  faith  casts  the  burden  of  his  guilt  on  him, 
has  no  more  punishment  to  fear  in  an  eternal  world  on 
account  of  it,  than  as  though  he  had  never  sinned.  "  God 
made  him  to  be  sin  for  us,"  says  the  apostle,  ^'  that 
we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him." 
Not  that  he  really  regarded  him  as  a  sinner,  for  *'  he 
knew  no  sin  ;"  he  was  as  holy  and  harmless  and  un- 
defiled  when  bleeding  on  the  cross,  as  when  reigning- 


480  The  Scape-Goat 

on  his  throne  ;  but  lookinpj  on  him  as  the  willing  sub- 
stitute of  his  polluted  church,  his  Father  treated  him 
as  though  all  their  guilt  really  rcsttd  on  him,  and 
poured  out  on  his  head  the  vials  of  his  wrath.  And  this 
was  the  wondrous  plan,  which  infinite  love  prompted 
infinite  wisdom  to  devise,  and  infinite  power  to  execute 
for  the  display  of  mercy  to  our  fallen  world.  And  this 
is  the  only  way,  by  which  any  of  our  race  can  be  re- 
stored to  Jehovah's  flivour.  Confessing  and  deploring 
our  sins,  we  must  bring  them  all  to  the  cross  of  Christ, 
esteeming  none  so  small  as  to  admit  of  being  atoned 
for  by  ourselves,  and  none  too  great  to  be  transferred 
to  him.  We  must  stand  before  the  mercy-seat  with  our 
hands  on  the  head  of  this  victim  and  this  prayer  in  our 
hearts,  "  O  God,  the  Father  of  heaven,  have  mercy 
upon  us,  miserable  sinners." 

From  this  part  of  our  subject  we  may  deduce  two 
inferences.  The  first  is  this — repentance  cannot  expiate 
sin.  The  Israelites  are  here  called  on  to  make  a  public 
and  particular  acknowledgment  of  their  guilt,  but  be- 
fore it  can  be  pardoned,  a  sacrifice  must  be  offered ; 
one  goat  must  be  slain,  and  another  sent  into  a  distant 
wilderness.  Of  what  avail  then  are  confessions,  and 
prayers,  and  tears  ?  In  themselves  they  are  of  none. 
However  sincere  and  bitter,  they  can  no  more  recom- 
pense the  injured  honour,  or  regain  the  forfeited  favour 
of  an  insulted  God,  than  the  debtor's  sorrow  can  dis- 
charge the  debt  which  he  has  contracted,  or  the  trem- 
bling of  the  condemned  criminal  repeal  his  sentence. 
While  trusting  in  such  miserable  saviours  as  these,  our 
sins  in  the  midst  of  our  repentance  are  still  upon  us, 
and  when  we  die  they  will  sink  us  to  destruction.  Re- 
pentance is  necessary  ;  .we  cannot  be  pardoned  without 
it ;  but  why  is  it  necessary  ?    Because   without  it  we 


a  Tijpe  of  Christ.  481 

shall  never  seek  pardon,  and  indeed  never  be  conscious 
of  our  need  of  it.  It  is  wrought  in  the  heart  of  the  sin- 
ner, not  to  furnish  him  with  any  ground  of  confidence 
before  God,  but  to  destroy  the  natural  pride  of  his 
soul ;  to  convince  him,  who  once  imagined  himself  rich 
and  in  need  of  nothing,  that  he  is  wretched,  and  mise- 
rable, and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked,  in  need  of  every 
thing;  to  make  him  willing  to  submit  to  the  humilia- 
ting terms  of  the  gospel,  and  thankful  for  the  precious 
blessings  which  the  gospel  offers  him.  It  is  as  necessary 
to  salvation,  as  the  knowledge  of  his  disease  to  the  re- 
covery of  him  who  is  sick  ;  as  becoming  a  pardoned 
sinner,  as  humiliation  before  his  sovereign  is  becoming 
a  reprieved  rebel. 

Hence  we  may  observe  that  the  sacrifice  of  Christ 
does  not  supersede  the  necessity  of  repentance.  There 
are  however  some  professors  of  the  gospel,  who  con- 
tend that  the  pardoned  sinner  has  no  longer  any  need 
to  mourn  over  his  transgressions,  that  he  may  even 
forget  them  ;  nay,  that  he  dishonours  the  Saviour  who 
bled  for  him,  if  he  suffers  them  to  excite  any  sorrow  in 
his  heart,  or  even  to  occupy  his  thoughts.  But  what 
can  such  men  know  of  the  nature  of  true  religion? 
What  can  they  have  felt  of  its  power  ?  There  are  some 
errors,  which  may  continue  to  hold  their  place  in  the 
mind  after  divine  grace  has  enlightened  and  sanctified 
it,  for  there  is  nothing  in  them  directly  opposed  to  the 
experience  of  the  renewed  heart;  but  there  are  other 
errors,  which  must  give  way  before  the  influence  of 
real  religion,  and  this  is  one  of  them.  The  man,  who  is 
a  Christian  indeed,  knows  and  feels  that  an  application 
to  Christ  for  pardon,  so  far  from  destroying  the  work- 
ings of  contrition,  is  the  most  powerful  of  all  means  to 
cherish  and  increase  them.    All  the  terrors  of  the  law, 

3  P 


48^  The  Scape-Goat 

and  all  its  threatening  of  wrath,  are  powerless  in  com- 
parison with  it.  They  can  make  a  sinner  tremble,  but 
this  can  make  him  weep,  and  pray,  and  love.  The  be- 
lieving sinner  will  ever  be  a  penitent  sinner.  While  with 
Mary  he  loves  and  boldly  confesses  a  pardoning  Jesus, 
with  her  he  will  kiss  his  feet,  and  wash  them  with  his 
tears.  Before  the  foundations  of  the  world  were  laid, 
faith  and  repentance  were  connected  together  in  the 
everlasting  covenant  of  grace,  and  that  man  will  be  dis- 
appointed and  undone,  who  attempts  to  separate  them. 

III.  Let  us  now  go  on  to  consider,  lastly,  the  bene- 
fits, which  resulted  from  the  obedience  of  Aaron  to  the 
injunctions  here  given  him. 

1.  After  the  appointed  confession  had  been  made 
over  it,  and  the  sins  of  the  people  put  upon  its  head, 
the  goat  was  to  be  sent  away  into  an  uninhabited  wil- 
derness. *'  He  shall  send  him  away,"  says  the  text, 
"  by  the  hand  of  a  fit  man  into  the  wilderness,  and  the 
goat  shall  bear  upon  him  all  their  iniquities."  Here 
again  we  can  be  at  no  loss  to  discover  the  spiritual  im- 
port of  the  rite.  This  part  of  it  was  undoubtedly  de- 
signed to  show  us  t/ie  completeness,  the  fulness,  of  that 
pardon  of  sin,  which  Christ  has  purchased  by  the  sacri- 
fice of  himself  for  the  believing  sinner.  It  is  a  pardon 
extending,  not  to  a  k\v  iniquities,  but  to  all.  As  all  the 
iniquities  of  the  children  of  Israel,  and  all  their  trans- 
gressions in  all  their  sins  were  borne  away  by  the  goat 
far  from  them  and  heard  of  no  more,  so  we  are  told  that 
the  Lamb  of  God  taketh  or  beareth  away  the  sins  of 
the  world;  that  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth 
from  all  sin  ;  that  they,  who  believe  in  him,  arc  justified 
from  all  things.  The  fact  is,  that  the  moment  a  sinner 
comes  with  a  contrite  and  believing  heart  to  the  Saviour, 
and  casts  on  him  the  heavy  burden  of  his  guilt,  in  that 


a  Type  of  Christ,  483 

moment  his  sins  are  all  blotted  out,  all  cancelled ;  so 
that  he,  who  was  before  condemned  and  accursed,  is 
now  acquitted  and  blessed.  He  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  and 
there  is  now  no  condemnation  for  him.  He  deserves  it 
as  much  as  ever  he  deserved  it,  but  the  sentence  has 
been  revoked  and  the  criminal  is  free.  "  In  those  days 
and  in  that  time,"  saith  the  Lord,  *'  the  iniquity  of  Is- 
rael shall  be  sought  for,  and  there  shall  be  none ;  and 
the  sins  of  Judah,  and  they  shall  not  be  found,  for  I  will 
pardon  them  whom  I  reserve." 

Hence  we  may  infer  that  justification  is  not,  like 
sanctification,  a  gradual  work,  a  work  remaining  to  be 
completed  ;  it  is  already  finished.  As  far  as  regards  the 
eternal  consequences  of  sin,  the  pardon  of  the  Christian 
is  as  complete  when  he  is  first  united  to  his  Redeemer, 
as  his  soul  can  wish  it  or  divine  mercy  make  it. 

And  hence  we  may  infer  also  that  no  contrite  sinner 
has  any  need  to  despair  on  account  of  the  number  or 
greatness  of  his  transgressions.  One  unrepented  and 
beloved  sin  is  sufficient  to  ruin  the  soul,  but  ten  thou- 
sand haied  and  bewailed  sins  have  no  power  to  destroy 
it.  The  most  heinous  transgressor,  who  applies  to  a 
dying  Saviour  for  mercy,  is  pardoned  as  readily,  as 
freely,  and  as  fully,  as  he  whose  offences  are  compara- 
tively few  and  light.  The  least  guilty  are  not  received 
by  God  on  the  ground  of  merit,  nor  are  the  most  guilty 
rejected  on  the  ground  of  unworthiness.  It  is  not  the 
greatness  of  our  iniquity,  which  can  exclude  us  from 
pardon,  but  the  greatness  of  our  insensibility  and  the 
obstinacy  of  our  unbelief. 

2.  But  the  pardon^  which  the  believing  penitent  re- 
ceives through  Christy  is  an  everlasting,  as  well  as  a  com- 
plete pardon.  This  is  strongly  implied  in  the  text.  The 
goat  was  not  only  to  bear  away  all  the  iniquities  of  the 


484  The  Scape-Goat 

children  of  Israel,  but  it  was  to  bear  them  away  into  a 
wilderness,  into  a  land  not  inhabited ;  a  land  cut  off 
from  all  other  countries  ;  a  desolate,  unvisited,  and  al- 
most inaccessible  region,  in  which  the  devoted  animal 
was  to  be  let  go,  and  where  it  would  remain  unseen  and 
forgotten  till  it  perished.  The  Israelites  therefore  had 
not  only  the  assurance  that  all  their  past  iniquities  were 
pardoned,  but  they  were  taught  also  by  this  ordinance 
that  they  had  no  reason  to  fear  the  return  of  them,  the 
revoking  of  this  pardon.  And  the  spiritual  Israel  also 
are  taught  by  it  the  same  encouraging  lesson.  The  re- 
demption, which  they  obtain  by  the  blood  of  Jesus,  is 
an  eternal  redemption.  The  pardon  connected  with  it 
is  not  a  mere  respite  for  a  season,  it  is  an  eternal  ac- 
quittal ;  an  act  of  oblivion,  which,  once  passed,  will 
never  be  recalled  ;  one  of  those  gifts  of  God,  which  are 
without  repentance.  It  makes  an  everlasting  separation 
between  the  sinner  and  the  wrath  of  God,  it  forms  an 
everlasting  connection  between  him  and  heaven. 

The  inspired  writers  employ  the  boldest  and  most 
expressive  figures  to  convince  the  desponding  penitent 
of  this  truth.  They  even  represent  the  all- wise  God  as 
forgetting,  as  absolutely  ceasing  to  think  o{,  the  iniqui- 
ties of  his  people.  "  I,  even  I,"  says  he  by  his  prophet 
Isaiah,  "  am  he,  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgressions  for 
mine  own  sake,  and  will  not  remember  thy  sins."  "  As 
far  as  the  east  is  from  the  west,"  says  David,  "  so  far 
hath  he  removed  our  transgressions  from  us;  so  that 
they  can  no  more  come  near  the  soul  to  destroy  it,  than 
the  east  and  the  west,  the  most  opposite  parts  of  the 
heavens,  cun  meet.  "  Who  is  a  God  like  unto  thee," 
asks  the  prophet  Micah,  "  that  pardoneth  iniquity,  and 
passeth  by  the  transgression  of  the  remnant  of  his  heri- 
tage ?    He  retaineth  not  his  anger  for  ever,  because  he 


a  Type  of  Christ,  485 

delighteth  in  mercy.  He  will  turn  again  ;  he  will  have 
compassion  upon  us ;  he  will  subdue  our  iniquities  ; 
and  thou  wilt  cast  all  their  sins  into  the  depths  of  the 
sea." 

Such,  my  brethren,  is  the  spiritual  import  of  the  or- 
dinance enjoined  in  the  text.  The  consideration  of  it 
ought  to  impress  deeply  and  permanently  upon  our 
minds  the  necessity  of  a  personal  and  immediate  appli- 
cation to  Christ,  as  the  great  Saviour  of  sinners.  It  calls 
upon  us  to  believe  in  him,  not  merely  as  a  holy  and 
exalted  Being,  and  a  compassionate  and  almighty 
Friend,  but  as  the  Lamb  of  God,  the  great  sacrifice 
for  sin,  the  only  channel,  through  which  mercy  can 
flow  to  our  perishing  souls.  It  is  not  enough  that  this 
sacrifice  has  been  offered  on  the  altar,  that  the  Son  of 
God  has  been  wounded  and  bruised  for  our  iniquities ; 
we  ourselves  must  approach  this  scape-goat,  confess 
our  sins  over  him,  and  trust  in  him  to  take  them  all 
away.  Now  have  you  done  this?  Are  you  doing  it 
daily  ?  Are  you  often  acknowledging  and  bewailing 
your  manifold  sins  and  wickedness,  which  you  have 
most  grievously  committed  ?  Is  the  remembrance  of 
them  at  seasons  grievous  unto  you,  and  the  burden  of 
them  intolerable  ?  Without  this  consciousness  of  guilt 
and  sorrow  of  heart  on  account  of  it,  the  remedy  which 
God  has  provided  will  be  useless  to  you  ;  you  will  not, 
you  cannot,  avail  yourselves  of  it.  As  far  as  you  are 
concerned,  Christ  is  dead  in  vain. 

But  if  you  are  really  humbled  on  account  of  your 
unworthiness,  on  vv^hat  are  you  grounding  your  expec- 
tations of  pardon  ?  This  great  question  still  remains  to 
be  decided,  and  on  this  depends  more  than  your  live- 
liest hopes  and  fears  can  conceive.  Eternity,  with  all  its 
unsearchable  sorrows  and  joys,  is  involved  in  it.    Hea- 


486  The  Scape-Goat 

ven  and  hell  are  involved  in  this  one  question — Am  I 
trusting  for  the  pardon   of  my  sins   in  the   blood   of 
Christ  ?  While  thousands  around  me  are  seeking  com- 
fort to  their  troubled  hearts  from  their  own  imperfect 
righteousness,  from  the  prayers  they  have  offered,  the 
sacraments  they  have  attended,  the  feelings  they  have 
experienced,  the  doctrines  they  have  upheld,  the  tears 
they  have  shed,  am  I  putting  all  my  trust  in  that  great 
sacrifice  for  sin,  which  was  offered  on  the  cross  ?     Am 
I  venturing  on  it  for  salvation  ;   relying  upon  it ;   fully 
convinced  that  I  must  perish,  if  it  does  not  save  me  ; 
and  equally  convinced  that  as  long  as  I  rely  on  it  I  can- 
not perish,  for  that  it  will  save  me  ?    If  such  be  the 
ground  of  your  confidence,  brethren,  and  you  hold  it 
stedfast  unto  the  end,  there  is  not  a  creature  in  the  uni- 
verse, whose  condition  is  safer  than  yours,  or  whose 
happiness  will  in  the  end  be  greater.     You  know  in 
whom  you  have  believed,  but  you  know  not  the  extent 
of  his   mercy,  the  riches  of  his  grace,  the  exceeding 
greatness  of  his  salvation.  Seek  tlierefore  a  deeper  and 
livelier  sense  of  the  importance  of  the  cross,  clearer  and 
more  extensive  views  of  the  covenant  of  grace  esta- 
blished on  it,  a  firmer  faith  in  its  power.   Strive  to  live 
more  under  its  elevating,  cheering,   sanctifying  influ- 
ence.    Much  a$  the  doctrines  connected  with  it  have 
been  misrepresented  and  hated  by  a  proud  and  igno- 
rant world,   they  are  the  only  doctrines,   which   can 
make  the  world  either  holy  or  happy;  the  only  remedies 
of  the  evils,  w^hich  defile  us  ;    the  only  refuges  under 
the  calamities,  which  afflict   us;   the  only   means  of 
escape  from  the  miseries,  which  threaten   us.     O  may 
the  peace,  which  flows  from  them,  be  shed  abroad  more 
abundantly   in   our   hearts!     May    their    constraining 
power  be  more  visible  in  our  lives !     Amidst  the  re- 


a  Type  of  Christ.  187 

proaches,  which  assail  us,  may  we  still  glory  meekly 
yet  boldly  in  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  under  all 
our  troubles  and  perplexities,  may  this  be  the  reason- 
ing which  we  employ  to  silence  our  fears,  and  to  com- 
fort our  hearts,  "  If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against 
us  ?  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered 
him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely 
give  us  all  things?  Who  shall  lay  any  thing  to  the 
charge  of  God's  elect  ?  It  is  God  that  justifieth.  Who 
is  he  that  condemneth  ?  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea  ra- 
ther that  is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand 
of  God  ;  who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us." 


SERMON  XXXII. 


THE  BURIAL  OF  CHRIST. 


ST.  JOHN  XIX.  41,  42. 

J^ow  TO  the  place  ivherein  he  was  crucified  there  was  a  garden,  and  in 
(he  garden  a  new  se/iulchre,  wherein  was  never  ?nan  yet  laid :  there 
laid  they  Jesus. 


vf  F  all  the  scenes  of  common  life,  there  is  none  so 
affecting  and  instructive  as  the  funeral  of  a  friend.  It 
generally  constrains  the  heart  to  feel,  and  sometimes 
Iodides  in  the  soul  a  spirit  of  thoughtfulness  and  prayer, 
which  leads  it  to  its  God. 

To  such  a  scene  the  words  of  the  text  invite  us. 
They  call  us  to  the  funeral  of  one,  to  whom  we  are  in- 
debted for  all  the  comforts  we  enjoy  in  the  present  life, 
and  for  all  our  hopes  of  blessedness  in  the  life  to  come. 
In  endeavouring  to  derive  instruction  from  it,  let  us 
consider,  ^r^;,  some  of  the  circumstances  attending  the 
burial  of  Christ ;  secondly,  the  reasons  why  he  was  bu- 
ried ;  and,  thirdly,  the  effects  which  a  contemplation  of 
his  tomb  should  produce  in  our  minds. 

And  who,  brethren,  will  turn  away  from  such  a  fu- 
neral as  this  ?  When  heroes  die,  assembled  multitudes 
follow  them  to  their  graves ;  and  when  a  beloved  mo- 
narch goes  to  his  last  home,  thousands  gather  round 
his  tomb,  and  a  mourning  nation  testifies  its  grief.  Shall 
the  Saviour  of  tlie  world  then,  he  who  triumphed  and 
bltd  for  unnumbered  millions,  have  no  one  among  us 
to  lament  his  loss?    Shall  the  King  of  Zion  be  carried 


The  Burial  of  Christ.  489 

to  his  sepulchre,  and  we  pass  by  unconcerned,  and  turn 
away  our  ears  from  the  voice  which  says,  "  Come,  see 
the  place  where  the  Lord  lies." 

1.  1 .  Among  the  many  interesting  circumstances  at- 
tending his  burial,  let  us  look,  first,  at  the  persons  who 
are  bearing  the  blessed  Jesus  to  his  tomb.  And  who  are 
they  ?  The  disciples  who  lay  in  his  bosom,  and  whom 
his  bounty  fed?  the  beloved  John,  the  pardoned  Peter? 
In  the  very  first  hour  of  his  sufferings,  these  all  forsook 
him  and  fled,  and  now  he  is  dead  they  leave  his  body 
to  be  mourned  over  and  buried  by  others.  But  though 
they  desert  us  in  the  hour  of  need,  who  ought  to  be  the 
first  to  minister  to  our  necessities,  yet  we  must  not 
despair  of  aid.  The  Lord  will  provide,  and  will  send 
us  the  mercies  we  require  by  other  hands,  and  perhaps 
by  the  hands  of  those,  who  seemed  but  little  likely  to 
do  us  service.  Nicodemus,  a  ruler  of  the  Jews,  and 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  who  were  both  afraid  to  acknow- 
ledge? the  Saviour  when  he  was  working  miracles  and 
manifesting  his  greatness,  nov/,  when  his  glory  appeared 
all  departed,  are  forward  to  avow  their  attachment  to 
him,  and  fearless  in  manifesting  their  love.  One  goes 
boldly  unto  Pilate,  and  from  him  to  the  cross,  and  takes 
down  the  body  of  Jesus ;  the  other  brings  costly  spices 
to  embalm  it ;  and  both,  in  company  with  a  few  faithful 
women,  lay  him  in  his  grave.  Let  not  the  strong  then 
boast  themselves  over  the  weak,  for  in  the  hour  of  trial 
the  strong  may  be  as  tow,  which  a  spark,  the  veriest 
trifle,  can  destroy  5  while  the  feeble  shall  be  as  David, 
bold  as  a  lion,  and  firm  as  a  cedar  of  Lebanon. 

2.  We  may  notice,  secondly,  the  time  in  which  Jesus 
was  interred.  It  was  in  the  evening,  the  evenip.g  before 
the  sabbath  on  which  the  feast  of  the  passover  was  cele- 
brated, and  consequently  a  season  of  peculiar  devotion.  It 


490  Tke  Burial  of  Christ, 

was  ^^the  Jews'  preparation  day,"  and  the  people  were 
now  attending  the  service  of  the  temple ;  but  Joseph  and 
Nicodemus  were  not  among  them.  They  left  them  to 
perform  a  necessary  act  of  charity  and  love.  Could  it 
have  been  delayed  their  conduct  would  have  been  cri- 
minal, but  it  admitted  of  no  delay,  and  they  offered  to 
God  a  more  acceptable  service  than  prayers  and  sacri- 
fice in  hastening  to  perform  it. 

But  let  no  one  dare  to  infer  from  their  example,  that 
the  public  ordinances  of  religion,  or  the  private  exer- 
cises of  devotion  may  rashly  be  neglected  for  more  ac- 
tive duties.  These  mourners  buried  the  Saviour  while 
others  were  worshipping,  but  they  buried  him  in  haste, 
and  then  rested  the  sabbath  day  according  to  the  com- 
mandment. All  their  love  for  him  could  not  bring  them 
to  his  tomb  till  the  sabbath  was  ended,  and  then  "  early 
when  it  was  yet  dark"  the  impatient  v/omen  come 
again  unto  the  sepulchre  to  indulge  their  grief.  Thus 
did  they  testify  the  ardour  of  their  affection,  and  at  the 
same  time  admonish  us  that  we  are  bound  to  suppress 
the  strongest  and  noblest  feelings  of  our  nature,  rather 
than  violate  the  command  of  God. 

3.  But  let  us  look,  thirdly,  at  the  place  where  the 
Lord  was  mter?'ed.  It  was  in  a  garden,  a  garden  on  the 
very  hill,  on  which  he  \yas  crucified.  No  dishonour 
however  was  designed  in  burying  him  in  such  a  place, 
for  among  the  eastern  nations  gardens  were  often  made 
use  of  as  places  of  interment.  And  on  this  occasion 
there  was  a  peculiar  propriety  in  laying  the  Saviour 
there.  It  was  right  that  the  place  where  he  suffered 
the  greatest  ignominy,  should  be  the  first  scene  of 
his  glory  ;  that  he  should  triumph  over  death  on  that 
very  hill,  on  which  he  submitted  for  a  season  to  his 
power. 


The  Burial  of  Christ.  491 

His  sepulchre,  we  are  told,  was  "  a  new  sepulchre 
wherein  was  never  man  yet  laid."  This  was  a  neces- 
sary precaution,  for  if  any  other  had  been  laid  in  the 
tomb  before  him,  his  em'mies  might  have  tarnished  the 
glory  of  his  resurrection  by  pretending  that  it  was 
some  other  body,  and  not  his  own,  which  was  raised 
out  of  it. 

It  was  also  "  hewn  out  of  a  rock,"  and  a  great  stone 
was  rolled  to  the  door  of  it,  and  afterwards  sealed.  Here 
also  may  be  discerned  the  superintending  providence 
of  God.  A  body  could  not  be  hastily  removed  from 
such  a  sepulchre  by  a  subterraneous  passage,  and  had 
the  disciples  really  formed  a  project  to  remove  it,  the 
Roman  guards  would  have  prevented  them  from  enter- 
ing it  in  front,  at  least  they  could  not  have  entered  it 
unperceived. 

Here  then  a  few  sorrowful  friends  entombed  the 
mangled  body  of  Jesus,  and  left  him  in  a  sepulchre, 
whom  they  expected  to  have  seen  on  a  throne.  And 
who,  that  contemplates  this  scene,  can  refrain  from 
wondering  at  the  depth  of  the  Saviour^s  humiliation  P 
He,  who  is  here  brought  to  the  dust  of  death,  is  no 
other  than  the  Prince  of  life,  that  everlasting  Prince, 
who  holds  in  his  hand  the  keys  of  hell  and  of  death, 
and  in  whom  we  all  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  be- 
ing. Before  he  appeared  among  us  he  sat  on  the  same 
throne  with  the  Lord  Almighty  ;  yea,  he  was  with  God 
and  was  God,  and  yet  he  humbled  himself,  took  on  him 
the  form  of  a  servant,  spent  his  days  in  an  accursed 
world  in  poverty  and  contempt,  amidst  pollution  which 
his  soul  abhorred  ;  and  at  length  laid  himself  down  in  a 
grave,  and  that  not  his  own  grave  but  one  provided  for 
him  by  the  charity  of  another.  Among  all  the  strange 
vicissitudes,  of  which  the  earth  has  been  the  theatre, 


49^  The  Burial  of  Christ, 

when  was  such  a  change  as  this  ever  witnessed,  or  such 
an  abasement  heard  of?  Were  but  half  its  mysteries  of 
love  and  condescension  known  to  us,  how  should  we 
wonder  and  adore  !  * 

The  circumstances  attending  our  Lord's  burial  may 
teach  us  also,  that  the  decent  solemnities  of  a  funeral  are 
not  displeasing  to  God.  The  blessed  Jesus  was  an  enemy 
to  pomp ;  all  he  said  and  did  during  his  life  wa^  di- 
rectly opposed  to  it ;  but  still  his  body  was  carried  to 
the  tomb  with  some  degree  of  ceremony,  and  he  was 
followed  thither  by  all  the  friends,  who  had  courage  to 
attend  him.  We  may  safely  infer  therefore,  that  we 
ought  not  rashly  to  condemn  all  funeral  solemnities. 
There  is  a  respect  due  to  the  body  of  a  Christian,  as 
the  temple  wherein  God  has  been  served  and  honoured. 
It  is  designed  to  be  rebuilt  in  another  world,  and  it 
ought  not  to  be  cast  away  like  common  dust  in  this. 
Accordingly  we  read  in  Scripture  of  many  solemn  and 
mournful  funerals;  such  also  were  often  seen  in  the 
primitive  church ;  and  such  in  the  days  that  are  past 
were  frequent  in  our  own  land.  Our  fathers  accompa- 
nied their  fathers  weeping  to  the  grave,  and  felt  a  me- 
lancholy pleasure  in  following  them  as  far  as  they  could 
follow  them,  in  seeing  the  last  of  them.  But  these  de- 
cencies are  now  rapidly  passing  away  ;  and  what  have 
we  instead  of  them  ?  An  unmeaning  pomp,  an  almost 
ludicrous  pantomine  of  grief,  exciting  at  once  our  pity 
and  disgust.  Relatives  and  friends  are  now  far  off,  and 
hired  mourners  supply  their  place.  And  whence  does 
this  change  proceed?  From  irreligion,  brethren  ;  from 
an  increasing  aversion  to  every  thing  serious  ;  from  a 
greater  dread  of  death  and  judgment.  But  death  and 
judgment  are  as  certain  as  ever,  and  are  drawing  near 
as  rapidly.   Why  then  should  we  wish  them  to  come 


Tlie  Burial  of  Christ.  493 

upon  us  unawares?  Let  us  accustom  ourselves  to  think 
of  them ;  and  that  we  may  think  of  them,  let  us  not 
turn  away  from  the  graves,  that  are  opened  for  our  kin- 
dred. Let  us  see  them  decently  interred  in  their  beds 
of  dust,  and  endeavour  to  derive  from  the  scene  all  the 
instruction  it  affords.  Let  us  not  sacrifice  affection  to 
fashion,  nor  exchange  the  decent  customs  of  the  wise 
and  good  in  past  ages  for  the  unfeeling  innovations  of 
the  proud  and  foolish  in  this. 

n.  Such  were  the  principal  circumstances  attending 
the  burial  of  Christ,  but  why  was  he  thus  buried?  It 
seems  on  the  first  view  unnecessary  that  he  should  have 
any  funeral  or  grave.  In  three  days  his  body  was  again 
to  be  raised  to  life,  and  during  this  short  interval  it 
could  have  remained  in  the  habitation  of  Joseph,  as 
well  as  in  his  sepulchre.  But  it  was  the  will  of  God 
that  it  should  be  committed  to  the  earth,  and  we  are 
warranted  to  conclude  that  some  important  ends  were 
designed  to  be  accomplished  by  its  interment. 

1.  One  of  these  undoubtedly  was  that  t/ie  prophecies 
concerning  the  Messiah  should  be  fulfilled.  So  minute 
and  precise  were  these  prophecies,  that  they  not  only 
foretold  his  incarnation,  his  passion,  and  the  glorious 
resurrection  which  was  to  follow,  but  also  his  burial, 
and  the  mode  and  continuance  of  it.  His  abode  in  the 
heart  of  the  earth,  was  prefigured  by  Jonah's  abode 
three  days  and  three  nights  in  the  belly  of  the  whale, 
and  Isaiah  had  expressly  declared  concerning  him,  that 
when  he  should  be  cut  off  out  of  the  land  of  the  living, 
he  should  "  make  his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and  with 
the  rich  in  his  death." 

But  how  are  these  prophecies  to  be  fulfilled?  The 
Roman  law,  under  which  the  Saviour  suffered,  allowed 
no  interment  to  those  who  died  on  the  cross  j  and  lest 


49  i  The  Burial  of  Christ. 

any  pitying  hand  should  take  their  bodies  from  the  tree 
and  cover  them  with  earth,  a  guard  was  usually  sta- 
tioned for  several  days  around  them.  We  are  accord- 
ingly told  by  Saint  Matthew  that  the  centurion  and 
ihey  that  were  with  him,  still  remained  on  the  hill  of 
Calvary  watching  Jesus,  after  he  had  given  up  the 
ghost.  And  even  if  this  difficulty  could  be  surmounted, 
there  \\-as  another  obstacle  still  to  be  removed  before 
he  could  have  an  honourable  interment.  The  Jews  had 
a  public  place  of  burial  for  all  those  who  suffered  as 
criminals,  and  if  any  interment  were  allowed  to  Jesus 
by  the  Romans,  this  pit  appeared  to  be  the  only  grave, 
in  which  his  countrymen  would  allow  his  dust  to  rest. 
But  what  are  difficulties  and  obstacles  in  the  way  of  an 
Almighty  God  ?  He  caused  the  Jews  themselves,  the 
very  people  who  crucified  his  Son,  to  prepare  the  way 
for  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecies,  which  proved  his 
divinity,  and  condemned  their  unbelief.  Their  law  re- 
quired that  malefactors  should  be  buried  on  the  day  of 
their  execution,  and  to  prevent  their  city  from  being 
ceremonially  unclean  on  the  succeeding  sabbath,  they 
besought  Pilate  that  the  sufferings  of  the  expiring  cri- 
minals  might  be  terminated,  and  their  bodies  taken 
down.  Pilate  granted  their  request,  and  no  sooner  was 
it  granted,  than  the  rich  and  honourable  Joseph  comes 
forward  to  rescue  the  breathless  Saviour  from  the  hands 
of  his  enemies,  and  to  lay  him  in  his  own  new  tomb. 
What  infinite  wisdom  foretold,  infinite  power  accom- 
plished. A  mighty  God  never  wants  means  and  instru- 
ments to  fulfil  his  purposes.  When  he  stretches  forth 
his  arm,  he  causes  darkness  to  be  light  before  him,  and 
crooked  things  straight.  Surveying  the  countless  hosts 
of  his  creatures,  he  often  passes  by  those  whom  we  ex- 
pect to  be  employed  in  his  service,  and  singles  out 


TJie  Burial  of  Christ.  495 

other  instruments  to  perform  his  will,  and  such  as  will 
perform  it  with  the  greatest  glory  to  himself,  and  the 
greatest  benefit  to  his  church. 

2.  Another  probable  reason,  why  the  Saviour  was 
buried,  was  to  prove  the  reality  of  his  death,  that  no 
doubt  might  afterwards  remain  of  his  resurrection  from 
the  dead.  Had  he  been  restored  to  life  on  the  cross, 
or  while  his  body  was  in  the  possession  of  his  friends, 
it  might  have  been  said  that  he  had  never  really  died ; 
that  though  life  appeared  to  be  extinct  within  him,  the 
vital  principle  still  remained  ;  but  by  his  interment  all 
such  insinuations  were  guarded  against.  His  enemies, 
who  were  anxious  to  prevent  all  imposition,  gave  his 
body  to  his  friends  to  be  interred ;  and  his  friends,  who 
would  not  surely  have  buried  alive  one  whom  they  so 
much  loved,  wrapped  him  in  a  winding-sheet,  and  en- 
closed him  in  a  tomb. 

3.  The  interment  of  Christ  might  also  be  designed  to 
answer  another  end — to  comfort  his  people  in  the  pros- 
pect of  death.  It  is  no  easy  thing  to  think  without  fear 
of  being  laid  in  the  grave,  and  encircled  with  a  shroud. 
We  shrink  from  the  silence  and  darkness  of  the  tomb, 
and  need  some  special  source  of  comfort  to  support 
our  trembling  steps  in  our  passage  to  it.  Now  Christ 
by  voluntarily  going  down  to  the  grave  has  cheered  the 
way,  which  leads  to  it.  He  has  explored  the  mansion, 
in  which  we  are  about  to  dwell,  and  disarmed  within  it 
him,  who  once  clothed  it  with  terrors.  He  tells  us  now 
to  fear  no  longer  its  loneliness  and  gloom,  to  tremble 
no  more  at  the  prospect  of  that  which  could  not  harm 
him,  and  which  he  will  take  care  shall  never  injure  us, 
to  venture  securely  where  he  has  gone  unhurt  before. 
He  bids  us  mark  his  footsteps  as  we  descend  the  path 
which  leads  us  to  the  tomb,  and  be  content  to  lie  down 


496  The  Burial  of  Christ. 

in  it  as  a  place  of  peaceful  rest  till  the  morning  of  the 
resurrection  dawns.  When  we  forget  him,  the  region 
of  death  is  a  land  of  darkness,  as  darkness  itself,  co- 
vered with  impenetrable  clouds  and  appalling  with 
mysterious  horrors ;  but  when  the  Christian  beholds 
his  Redeemer  entering  it  as  his  forerunner,  and  passing 
through  it  in  triumph  to  a  world  of  light,  he  no  longer 
heeds  its  gloom.  His  language  now  is,  "  O  death, 
where  is  thy  sting?  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory? 
True,  I  must  die;  but  my  dying  Lord  has  conquered 
death,  and  robbed  him  of  his  sting.  It  is  true  also  that 
I  must  lie  down  in  the  grave ;  but  I  shall  enter  into 
peace  when  I  rest  in  the  bed  provided  for  me  there,  for 
there  has  my  Saviour  lain  and  left  behind  him  security 
and  peace.  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  he,  who  has 
never  yet  forsaken  me  in  all  my  wanderings,  will  be 
with  me  there.  His  rod  and  his  staff,  which  have  so 
often  upheld  my  goings,  they  shall  comfort  me." 

III.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  enquire,  thirdly,  what 
are  the  effects  which  the  contemplation  of  the  Saviour's 
tomb  should  produce  in  our  minds.  And  in  order  to 
answer  this  enquiry,  let  us  bring  to  our  remembrance 
one  of  those  scenes  of  sorrow,  through  which  most  of 
us  have  passed,  and  endeavour  to  retrace  some  of  the 
feelings  we  have  cherished  in  our  bosoms  at  the  loss  of 
a  beloved  friend. 

1.  One  of  the  first  and  strongest  of  these  feelings 
often  is,  a  penitential  sorrow  for  all  the  injuries  we  have 
done  hirUf  and  all  the  pain  we  have  given  him.  Every  act 
of  unkindness  towards  him  is  remembered,  and  every 
impatient  word  lamented.  And  has  the  buried  Jesus 
received  no  injuries  at  our  hands,  and  endured  no  pain 
on  our  account  ?    Alas,   brethren,  all  he  ever  endured 


The  Burial  of  Christ.  497 

was  inflicted  by  us.  We  stripped  him  of  his  glory,  and 
robbed  him  of  his  happiness.  Our  sins  made  him  a 
man  of  sorrows  ;  and  when  he  was  stricken  and  afflicted, 
we  sharpened  liis  anguish  by  hiding  our  faces  from 
him,  despising  and  rejecting  him.  It  was  our  guilt, 
which  laid  him  prostrate  in  the  garden,  scourged  him 
and  crowned  him  with  thorns,  wounded  and  bruised 
him  on  the  cross,  and  gave  him  in  exchange  for  the 
brightness  of  heaven,  the  gloominess  of  the  grave.  O 
let  us  look  on  him  whom  we  have  pierced,  and  mourn! 
Let  us  remember  how  often  and  how  deeply  we  have 
put  him  to  grief.  Let  us  think  of  his  anguish  at  Geth- 
semane,  of  the  indignities  he  endured  at  Golgotha,  of 
the  unknown  horrors  of  his  soul  at  Calvary  ;  and  de- 
plore with  contrition  and  tears  the  injuries  we  cannot 
recompense.  All  the  wounds  he  received,  he  received 
here  in  the  house  of  his  friends.  We  ourselves  were 
among  the  sinners,  who  pierced  him  then,  and  ought 
to  weep  bitterly  over  him  now. 

2.  Another  effect,  which  is  generally  produced  by 
the  death  of  a  friend,  is  a  feeling  o^  joy  that  his  suffer- 
ings  are  past,  and  his  happiness  begun.  We  mourn  over 
his  grave,  but  we  remember  that  there  the  weary  are 
at  rest,  and  we  are  comforted.  We  lift  up  our  eyes  to 
the  world  whither  he  is  gone,  and  as  we  listen  to  the 
voice  from  heaven,  which  says,  "  Blessed  are  the  dead 
which  die  in  the  Lord,"  we  sometimes  lose  our  sorrow 
in  the  contemplation  of  his  blessedness.  And  shall  we 
not  rejoice  at  the  grave  of  the  departed  Jesus  ?  Bitter 
indeed  were  his  sufferings;  never  was  any  sorrow  like 
unto  his  sorrow ;  but  the  days  of  his  mourning  are 
ended.  He  will  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any 
more.  His  weariness  and  painfulness,  his  vvatchings  and 
fastings,  are  all  past,  and  all  his  shame  and  anguish  ar'- 

3  R 


49B  The  Burial  of  Christ. 

ceased  for  ever.  The  wicked  will  trouble  him  no  more  ; 
no  more  will  his  friends  desert  him,  nor  his  Father  for- 
sake him.  The  sorrows  of  death  will  never  again  com- 
pass him,  nor  the  pains  of  hell  get  hold  upon  him. 
"  Being  raised  from  the  dead,  he  dieth  no  more  ;  death 
hath  no  more  dominion  over  him  ;  for  in  that  he  died, 
he  died  unto  sin  once;  but  in  that  he  liveth,  he  liveth 
unto  God."  The  biittle  is  fought;  the  victory  is  won; 
and  the  Conqueror  has  entered  into  his  rest,  and  encir- 
cled himself  with  his  glor}'.  And  what  heart  can  con- 
ceive aright  of  the  sweetness  of  his  rest,  or  the  bright- 
ness of  his  glory  ?  The  prospect  of  it  supported  and 
cheered  him  during  all  his  sufferings  upon  earth,  and 
when  he  left  it,  he  told  his  disciples  to  think  of  it  and 
rejoice.  ''  Ye  have  heard,"  said  he,  "  how  I  said  unto 
you  I  go  away.  If  ye  loved  me,  ye  would  rejoice  be- 
cause I  said  1  go  unto  the  Father."  And  has  this  much 
longed  for,  this  dearly  purchased  joy,  disappointed  him? 
No.  He  sees  of  the  travail  of  his  soul  and  is  satisfied. 
He  rejoices  in  the  fruits  of  his  labours,  and  almost  for- 
gets the  agonies  of  his  cross  in  the  glories  of  his  crown ; 
the  terrors  of  the  conflict,  and  the  blood  which  stained 
it,  in  the  splendours  of  his  triumph. 

3.  And  what  effect  ought  the  contemplation  of  his 
blessedness  to  produce  in  our  minds  ?  It  ought  to  ex- 
cite in  us  an  earnest  desire  to  be  where  he  is^  and  to  be- 
hold his  glory.  Those  among  us  who  have  friends  in 
heaven,  tenderly  cherish  the  hope  of  meeting  them 
again.  We  know  that  for  the  present  they  are  lost  to 
us,  but  we  know  also  that  they  are  not  lost  to  us  for- 
ever; that  though  they  cannot  return  to  us,  yet  we  shall 
go  to  them,  and  share  again  their  friendship  and  their 
joys.  And  what  was  the  language  of  the  dying  Jesus  to 
his  sorrowful  friends?    "  Let  not  your  heart  be  trou- 


The  Burial  of  Christ  499 

bled.  Ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions ;  if  it  were  not  so  I 
would  have  told  you.  1  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you. 
And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come 
again  and  receive  you  unto  myself,  that  where  I  am 
there  ye  may  be  also."  And  what  is  the  description, 
which  he  has  given  us  of  the  friends,  whom  he  has  left 
for  a  season  behind  him  in  the  world  ?  They  are  men, 
who  are  waiting  for  him  from  heaven  ;  having  their 
conversation  there,  because  from  thence  they  are  look- 
ing for  the  Saviour ;  seeking  those  things  which  are 
above,  because  he  is  sitting  above  at  the  right  hand  of 
God.  They  cannot  be  happy  till  they  are  where  he  is, 
till  they  see  him  face  to  face,  and  behold  his  gtory. 
And  they  shall  see  his  face,  and  behold  his  glory.  He 
is  as  desirous  of  having  them  with  him  in  his  kingdom, 
as  they  are  to  be  there,  and  he  will  soon  come  and  fetch 
them  home  to  himself.  He  will  raise  them  up  at  the 
last  day,  and  lead  them  in  exultation  to  the  mansions 
and  thrones  prepared  for  them.  Then  indeed  will  there 
be  joy  in  heaven,  such  joy  as  never  yet  has  gladdened 
its  bright  abodes.  The  morning  stars  will  sing  together 
more  sweetly  than  when  the  foundations  of  the  earth 
were  laid,  and  the  sons  of  God  shout  more  triumphantly 
for  joy. 

4.  There  is  one  feeling  more,  which  the  burial  of 
Christ  ought  to  excite — a  feeling  of  the  deepest  anxiety 
to  be  prepared  for  our  own  latter  end.  Where  the  body 
of  Jesus  went,  there  also  must  our  bodies  go.  We  are 
all  the  heirs  of  the  grave,  and  when  a  few  more  years 
have  passed  away,  we  shall  all  have  entered  on  our  in- 
heritance, and  taken  a  shroud  for  our  garment,  and  a 
coffin  for  our  home.  Our  souls  too  must  go  into  that 
invisible,  that  untried  and  unknown  world,  whither  the 


500  The  Burial  of  Christ. 

spirit  of  our  Lord  went.  They  must  enter  eternity,  and 
take  up  in  it  their  everlasting  abode.  Are  we  then  pre- 
pared for  this  journey?  Are  we  ready  to  depart?  Are 
we  willing  to  have  our  bodies  carried  to  the  grave,  and 
our  souls  ushered  into  a  world  of  spirits  ?  Are  we,  in 
short,  prepared  to  meet  our  God?  Are  our  sins  par- 
doned ?  Is  the  wrath  to  come  escaped  ?  Is  an  interest 
in  Christ  secured  ?  Is  the  great  business  of  life  done? 
O  brethren,  how  trifling  are  all  the  enquiries,  which 
employ  and  agitate  our  Vninds,  when  compared  with 
such  questions  as  these  !  And  how  are  we  to  answer 
them  ?  Only  by  looking  into  our  hearts,  and  asking 
others.  Are  we  buried  with  Christ?  Are  we  striving  to 
be  made  conformable  to  his  death  ?  Are  we  crucified  to 
the  world  ?  Are  we  dead  unto  sin  ?  Are  we  living  unto 
God  ?  As  though  we  were  already  laid  in  our  graves, 
are  we  striving  to  keep  our  minds  unaffected  by  the 
vanities  of  life,  and  undisturbed  by  its  cares?  Are  we 
dying  daily  ?  These  are  the  questions,  which  we  should 
press  home  to  our  hearts  as  we  stand  at  the  tomb  of 
Christ ;  and  these  are  the  things,  which  will  enable  us 
to  go  down  to  our  own  tombs  in  peace  and  hope.  They 
cannot  indeed  blot  out  our  sins — the  holiness  of  an  an- 
gel, were  it  ours,  could  not  atone  for  the  least  of  our 
transgressions, — but  they  are  evidences  that  the  blood 
of  Christ  has  cleansed  us,  that  his  Spirit  is  sanctifying 
us,  that  heaven  is  prepared  for  us,  that  when  he,  who 
is  our  life,  shall  appear,  we  also  shall  appear  w-ith  him 
in  glory. 


SERMON  XXXIII. 


THE  EXHORTATION  AND  PROMISES  OF  GOD 
TO  THE  AFFLICTED. 


ISAIAH  xliii.  1,  3,  3. 
# 

Thus  saith  the  Lord  that  created  thee,  O  Jacob,  and  he  that  formed 
thee,  O  Israel,  "  Fear  ?iot,  for  I  have  redeemed  thee ;  I  have  called 
thee  by  thy  naine ;  thou  art  mine.  When  thou  fiassest  through  the 
luaters,  I  luill  be  ivith  thee  ;  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not 
overjlow  thee :  ivhen  thou  walkest  through  thejire,  thou  shall  not  be 
burned,  neither  shall  thejlame  kindle  upon  thee  ;  for  I  am  the  Lord 
thy  God,  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  thy  Saviour." 

AHESE  cheering  words  were  addressed  by  God  to 
his  peculiar  people  the  Jews ;  but  God  has  a  peculiar 
people  now,  and  all,  who  are  partakers  of  their  faith  and 
love,  may  consider  this  Scripture  as  designed  for  them- 
selves, as  written  for  the  very  purpose  of  imparting 
comfort  and  strength  to  their  troubled  hearts.  The  sub- 
jects of  consideration,  which  it  suggests  to  us  are  these 
four, — the  afflictions,  to  which  the  people  of  God  are 
liable ;  the  exhortation  addressed  to  them  in  the  pros- 
pect of  these  afflictions ;  the  promises,  by  which  it  is 
strengthened ;  and  the  arguments,  by  which  it  is  en- 
forced. 

I.  Compared  with  the  miseries  which  they  have  de- 
served, or  with  the  weight  of  glory  which  is  laid  up  for 
them  in  heaven,  the  afflictions  of  the  people  of  God  are 
light ;  but  in  every  other  point  of  view  they  are  gene- 
rally sharp  and  heavy.  The  text  intimates  that  they 
may  be  great.    They  may  pass  through  waters,  yea, 


502  The  Exhortation  and  Promises 

through  rivers ;  through  calamities,  which  seem  as  deep 
and  overwhehiiing  as  rapid  torrents,  and  as  Hkely  to 
destroy  them.  Their  troubles  too  may  be  greatly  diver- 
sijied.  They  may  be  in  the  waters  to-day  and  may  have 
deliverance,  but  to-morrow  they  may  be  called  on  to 
walk  through  the  fire  and  the  flame ;  to  endure  trials, 
which  are  unexpected  and  strange,  different  in  their 
nature  from  ajiy  they  have  yet  experienced,  and  far 
more  severe  and  bitter.  The  text  implies  also  that  these 
afflictions  are  certain  ;  that  they  not  only  may  come, 
but  will  come.  It  speaks  of  them  as  things  of  course. 
It  represents  the  overflowing  river  and  the  raging  flame, 
as  standing  directly  in  the  Christian's  path  in  his  road 
to  heaven  ;  and  ttlL,  him  that  before  he  can  arrive  there, 
he  must  pass  through  the  one,  and  walk  through  the 
other ;  that  the  trials,  which  are  the  portion  of  the  chil- 
dren of  God,  must  be  experienced  and  patiently  en- 
dured, as  well  as  thought  of  and  feared. 

We  see  then  our  calling,  brethren.  We  see  what  wc 
take  as  our  present  inheritance  when  we  join  ourselves 
in  a  covenant  to  the  Lord.  We  are  promised  not  only 
grace  and  glory,  but  afflictions,  great  afflictions,  diver- 
sified afflictions,  certain  and  unavoidable  afflictions. 
There  is  no  way  to  Canaan,  but  through  a  howling 
wilderness.  There  is  no  way  to  heaven  but  through  a 
path  of  tribulation. 

II.  Under  such  circumstances,  how  seasonable  and 
encouraging  is  the  exhortation,  which  is  here  addressed 
to  us!  it  is  short  and  simple,  but  it  is  sufficient  to 
show  us  that  the  Lord,  who  created  us,  is  aware  of  the 
situation  in  which  we  are  placed,  and  of  the  difliculties 
and  dangers  with  which  we  are  encompassed ;  that  he 
enters  into  our  troubles,  yea.  into  our  misgivings  and 
fears . 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted,  503 

The  power  and  greatness  of  him,  from  whom  it  pro- 
ceeds, gives  to  this  exhortation  a  force,  which  it  would 
not  otherwise  possess.  It  is  God,  who  says  to  his  af- 
flicted people,  "  Feur  not ;"  the  great  God  ;  the  eternal 
God  ;  the  God,  who  has  the  earth  for  his  footstool,  and 
heaven  for  his  throne  ;  the  only  Being  in  the  universe, 
who  can  help  and  bless  a  sinner,  and  the  only  Being, 
whom  a  sinner  has  cause  to  fear. 

Now  this  command  plainly  implies  that  the  natural 
tendency  of  our  trials  is  to  excite  fear.  It  might  not 
be  so  if  we  were  strong  and  sinless  beings,  but  this  is^ 
not  our  state  or  character.  We  are  weak  and  guilty 
beings,  likely  to  be  dispirited  by  the  slightest  tribula- 
tion and  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  weakest ;  as  liable 
to  be  crushed  before  the  moth,  as  to  be  destroyed  by 
the  falling  mountain.  There  is  consequently  a  fear  of 
afflictions,  which  is  a  natural  and  by  no  means  a  sinful 
passion ;  a  fear,  which  leads  us  to  avoid  them  if  the 
will  of  God  will  allow  us  to  avoid  them,  and,  if  not, 
to  receive  them  with  circumspection  and  prayer;  to 
be  aware  of  the  dangers  and  temptations,  with  which 
they  are  invariably  accompanied,  and  of  our  utter  ina- 
bility to  escape  or  overcome  them.  Such  a  fear  the 
blessed  Saviour  manifested  in  the  garden  of  Gethse- 
mane ;  and  they,  who  have  most  resembled  him  in  his 
sufferings  and  obedience,  have  been  the  most  serious 
and  prayerful  under  its  influence. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  fear,  and  this  we  are 
here  called  on  to  lay  aside ;  a  fear,  which  is  the  effect 
of  unbelief,  and  the  cause  of  murmuring,  despondency, 
and  wretchedness  ;  which  tempts  us  to  choose  sir. 
rather  than  affliction  ;  which  prevents  us  from  prais. 
ing  God  under  our  trials,  and  from  trusting  to  him  to 
bring  us  out  of  them.  Such  a  fear  as  this  is  as  dis- 


504?  The  Exhortation  and  Promises 

honourable  to  God  as  it  is  disquieting  to  ourselves, 
and  he,  who  values  nothing  so  highly  as  his  own  honour 
and  our  happiness,  commands  us  to  yield  to  it  no  more. 
He  has  made  it  our  duty  to  watch  and  pray  in  the  hour 
of  trouble,  as  though  our  troubles  were  ready  to  over- 
power  us ;  but  he  bids  us  at  the  same  time  to  be  as 
peaceful  and  confiding,  as  though  they  had  no  power 
to  hurt  us.  To  despise  affliction,  to  be  light-hearted 
and  careless  under  it,  is  a  proof  that  we  are  ignorant 
of  its  real  nature  and  importance  ;  while  to  faint  and 
despond  when  it  is  laid  on  us,  shows  as  clearly  that  we 
know'iiot  thev  power  and  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord. 

III.  Now  it,  might  have  been  supposed  that  such 
an  exhortation  from  such  a  Being,  would  have  been 
sufficient  of  itself  to  dispel  the  fears  of  those,  to  whom 
it  is  addressed  ;  but  a  compassionate  God  does  not 
leave  it  to  its  own  unaided  authority.  He  supports 
and  strengthens  it  by  two  most  gracious  promises. 

1.  He  promises  us,  first,  his  own  presence  with  us 
in  our  trials.  ''  When  thou  passest  through  tlic  waters, 
1  will  be  with  thee."  But  is  not  God  always  prof  nt 
with  his  people  ?  Yes,  brethren,  he  is  ;  and  not  with 
them  only,  but  with  all  that  lives,  and  mo^es,  and  has 
a  being.  Since  he  formed  the  worlds,"  he  has  never  for 
one  moment  been  absent  from  any  part  of  his  immense 
creation.  Wherever  his  creatures  are,  there  God  is, 
observing  and  upholding  them.  But  he  is  present  in  a 
peculiar  sense] with  the  sinners,  whom  he  has  redeemed. 
They  are  the  objects  of  his  special  attention.  He  is 
present  with  others  as  a  God  of  infinite  power,  justice, 
and  goodness,  as  their  Inspector,  Judge,  and  Preserver ; 
but  he  is  present  with  his  people  as  a  God  of  infinite 
grace,  love,  and  tenderness,  as  their  Guide,  Saviour, 
and  Friend.  And  in  their  afflictions  and  distresses  this 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted.  505 

connection  between  him  and  his  children  becomes 
closer.  The  promise  he  has  given  them  implies  that  he 
draws  nearer  to  them,  and  is  more  immediately  with 
them.  Not  that  he  loves  them  more  than  he  loves  them 
at  other  times,  or  that  their  condition  is  really  safer ; 
but  he  manifests  himself  more  to  them,  his  love  is  in 
greater  exercise,  his  grace  in  all  its  richness  is  in  more 
powerful  operation,  his  sympathy  is  deeper,  and  his 
compassion  more  intense.  He  goes,  as  it  were,  into  the 
very  rivers  and  flames  with  them,  shares  their  afflic- 
tions, is  touched  with  a  feeling  of  all  their  infirmities; 
and  though  they  distrust  and  grieve  him,  he  cannot 
.find  in  his  heart  to  leave  or  forsake  them.  A  parent 
always  loves  his  child,  but  when  th^t  child  is  in  pecu- 
liar danger  or  trouble,  the  love  of  the  parent  becomes 
more  visible  and  active,  the  object  of  his  affections 
occupies  mere  of  his  thoughts,  and  receives  more  of 
his  attention  and  regard. 

We  are  not  however  to  infer  that  the  affiicied  Chris- 
tian is  always  aware  of  the  companion,  with  whom  he 
is  walking.  The  very  contrary  is  often  the  case.  He 
imagines  himself  to  be  left  alone  in  his  trials.  He  con- 
siders himself  cast  out  of  the  sight  of  that  God,  who 
once  gladdened  him  with  his  presence,  and  wonders 
why  he  has  forsaken  him  and  whither  he  is  gone,  Christ 
walks  with  his  disciples  to  Emmaus,  but  they  know 
him  not,  and  even  to  his  face  they  mourn  his  absence. 
Neither  are  we  to  suppose  that  all  the  afflicted  servants 
of  the  Lord  have  the  same  manifestations  of  his  pre- 
sence. Some  do  not  need  them  so  much  as  others. 
They  have  not  the  same  temptations  to  withstand,  nor 
the  same  burdens  to  bear,  nor  the  same  duties  to  per- 
form. They  arc  surrounded  with  more  outward  com- 
forts, and  consequently  they  less  need  those,  which  are 

3  S 


306  The  Exhortation  and  Promises 

inward.  The  Lord  delights  to  be  the  companion  of 
him,  whom  every  one  else  forsakes ;  to  manifest  his 
tcnderest  compassion  for  the  sufferer,  who  has  none  to 
pity  him  ;  and  to  bind  up  the  heart,  Avhich  all  others 
are  seeking  to  wound.  Some  also  do  not  desire  nor 
seek  the  light  of  their  Father's  countenance  so  earnestly 
as  their  brethren.  They  lean  more  on  earthly  friends 
and  succours  ;  they  are  not  walking  so  closely  with  God, 
nor  serving  him  so  faithfully,  nor  depending  on  him 
so  simply,  nor  waiting  on  him  so  patiently.  He,  who 
is  infinitely  wise,  always  suits  the  measure  and  degree 
of  his  gracious  and  especial  presence  to  the  necessities 
and,  in  one  sense,  to  the  characters  of  his  people.  He 
gives  them  what  they  need,  and  what  they  desire  and 
seek. 

2.  But  there  is  another  promise  in  the  text,  a  pro- 
mise  o{ preservation  under  all  our  calatnkies.  Now  what 
does  preservation  imply  ?  It  implies  that  our  trials  shall 
not  injure  us.  ^'  When  thou  passest  through  the  wa- 
ters, I  will  be  with  thee  ;  and  through  the  rivers,  they 
ahall  not  overflow  thee  :  when  thou  walkest  through 
the  fire,  thou  shalt  not  be  burned,  neither  shall  the 
flame  kindle  upon  thee."  And  yet  rivers  are  likely  to 
overflow  and  flames  likely  to  burn  those,  who  pass 
through  them.  Afl^liction  is  likely  to  injure,  and  would 
inevitably  ruin  us,  if  God  were  not  near.  It  brings 
with  it  many  and  great  dangers.  It  tempts  us  to  rebel 
against  the  divine  providence  and  to  distrust  the  divine 
goodness  ;  to  be  thankless,  impatient,  and  repining. 
The  mind,  already  weakened  perhaps  and  bewildered 
by  the  pressure  of  adversity,  is  easily  led  to  apppre- 
hend  still  greater  troubles,  and  faints  at  the  prospect, 
We  see  the  trial  before  us,  but  we  are  tempted  to  for- 
get  the  everlasting  arm,  which  is  underneath  us.    We 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted.  507 

feel  the  smart  of  the  rod,  but  we  perceive  not  that  it 
is  a  Father's  hand,  which  holds  it.  The  tempest  rages 
around  us,  and  we  deem  ourselves  ready  to  perish,  be- 
cause we  remember  not  that  there  is  one  sailing  with 
us,  whom  the  winds  and  the  waves  obey  ;  who  can 
say  to  the  storm,  "  Be  still,"  and  there  shall  be  a  great 
calm. 

This  too  is  the  season,  when  our  great  adversary  is 
most  to  be  dreaded.  It  is  in  the  night,  that  the  wild 
beasts  of  the  forest  roar  after  their  prey  ;  and  it  is  in  the 
darkness  of  spiritual  or  temporal  adversity,  that  Satan 
directs  against  us  his  most  violent  assaults.  The  first 
temptation  which  assailed  the  upright  Job,  he  encoun- 
tered when  sitting  in  sickness  and  wretchedness  among 
the  ashes  ;  and  the  most  subtle  attack,  which  the  Sa- 
viour experienced  from  him,  he  endured  in  a  wilder- 
ness while  fainting  with  hunger  and  weariness.  The 
fact  is,  that  our  spiritual  interests  are  much  more  en- 
dangered by  tribulation,  than  our  worldly  prosperity. 
It  is  the  soul,  which  is  most  expose'd  and  which  most 
needs  preservation,  and  preservation  is  here  promised 
to  it.  The  Lord  will  defend  it  as  with  a  shield.  By  call- 
ing the  suffering  graces  of  his  people  into  exercise,  he 
will  render  them  invincible.  He  will  enable  them  to 
pass  through  rivers  of  trouble,  as  safely  as  his  beloved 
Israel  passed  through  the  Red  Sea  ;  and  causes  the  fires 
of  affliction  to  play  as  innocently  around  them,  as  they 
played  around  his  three  servants  in  the  furnace  at  Ba- 
bylon. Nay  more  ;  the  very  calamities,  which  appeared 
likely  to  destroy  every  spiritual  grace  within  them,  to 
overwhelm  their  patience,  their  confidence,  and  love, 
are  made  the  means  of  displaying  and  brightening  them 
all.  They  deepen  their  convictions  of  the  vanity  of  the 
world,  and  the  value  of  the  soul ;  they  show  them  more, 


508  llie  Exhortation  and  Promises 

of  the  reality  and  power  of  religion  ;  they  enlarge  their 
views  of  the  loving-kindness  of  God,  and  the  tender- 
ness of  his  mercy;  they  quicken  them  to  prayer;  they 
revive  the  feelings  of  contrition  ;  they  elevate  their  af- 
fections to  the  throne  of  God,  and  gladden  the  heart 
with  a  foretaste  of  the  blessedness  which  is  reigning  at 
his  right  hand.  The  Christian  often  enters  the  furnace 
cold-hearted,  earthly-minded,  and  comfortless ;  he 
comes  out  of  it  peaceful,  confiding,  burning  with  love 
for  his  delivering  God,  and  thirsting  after  the  enjoy- 
ment of  his  presence.  "  And  thus  the  trial  of  his  faith, 
being  much  more  precious  than  of  gold  that  perisheth, 
though  it  be  tried  with  fire,  is  found  unto  praise  and 
honour  and  glory  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ." 

IV.  Such  then  are  the  promises,  by  which  the  ex- 
hortation given  us  in  the  text  is  supported  ;  and  here 
surely  the  Lord  will  stop.  But  in  the  greatness  of  his 
condescension  he  goes  further.  To  force  us  to  see  and 
acknowledge  our  security,  to  drive  from  our  souls  the 
apprehensions  of  unbelief,  the  perplexity  of  fear,  and 
the  anguish  of  sorrow,  he  vouchsafes  to  add  to  his  pre- 
cious promises  several  reasons  or  arguments  to  assure 
us  of  their  fulfilment. 

1.  The  first  of  these  is  drawn  from  the  relation  in 
which  he  stands  to  us  as  our  Creator.  "  Thus  saith  the 
Lord  that  created  thee,  O  Jacob,  and  he  that  formed 
thee,  O  Israel."  Now  this  language  may  be  under- 
stood in  a  two-fold  sense.  It  refers  to  our  spiritual,  as 
well  as  to  our  natural  existence  ;  to  our  existence  as 
the  redeemed  people  of  God,  as  well  as  to  our  ex- 
istence as  creatures.  The  Lord  called  us  at  first  into 
being,  his  hands  made  us  and  fashioned  us;  and  when 
we  cast  off  the  connection  which  united  us  to  him,  and 
threw  away  the  heavenly  life  which  he  had  given  us, 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted.  509 

he  created  us  again  in  Christ  Jesus,  made  us  new  crea- 
tures, and  moulded  us  anew  into  his  own  divine  image. 
*'  This  people,"  says  he,  "  have  I  formed  for  myself:" 
and  his  people  acknowledge  the  operation  of  his  rege- 
nerating  hand ;  "  We  are  his  workmanship,  created  in 
Christ  Jcbus  unto  good  works." 

Here  then  is  a  solid  ground  of  confidence.  The  Fa- 
ther of  our  spirits  must  be  well  acquainted  with  their 
infirmities  and  weakness.  "  He  knoweth  our  frame, 
and  remembereth  that  we  are  but  dust."  He  will  not 
therefore  suffer  us  to  be  tempted  above  that  we  are 
able.  "  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord 
pitieth  them  that  fear  him.  In  all  their  afflictions,  he  is 
afflicted;  and  the  angel  of  his  presence  saves  them." 
Neither  will  he  ever  forsake  the  work  of  his  own  hands. 
He  formed  us  for  himself,  and  to  all  eternity  we  shall 
show  forth  his  praise.  He  raised  us  out  of  the  ruins  of 
the  fall,  made  us  temples,  in  which  he  delights  to  dwell 
and  be  worshipped ;  and  he  will  never  suffer  the  struc- 
tures, which  he  has  erected  at  so  much  labour  and  cost, 
to  be  thrown  down  by  violence,  or  fall  to  decay  with 
age.  He  will  perfect  that,  which  concerneth  us.  He 
will  finish  the  good  work  in  us,  which  he  has  begun. 
He  will  keep  us  by  his  power  through  faith  unto  sal- 
vation. "  Wherefore  let  them  that  suffer  according  to 
the  will  of  God  commit  the  keeping  of  their  souls  to 
him  in  well-doing,  as  unto  a  faithful  Creator." 

2.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  Almighty  draws  another 
argument  to  enforce  his  exhortation  from  the  property 
which  he  has  in  his  people^  and  the  tnanner  in  which  he 
acquired  it.  "  Fear  not,"  says  he,  '•  for  1  have  redeemed 
thee ;  I  have  called  thee  by  thy  name ;  thou  art  mine." 
We  are  his  bv  creation,  but  he  has  made  us  his  also 
by  redemption.    And  what  a  mighty  price  did  he  pay 


i5lO  The  Exhortation  and  Promises 

for  us  ?  •He  gave  Egypt  for  the  ransom  of  his  ancient 
people^  Ethiopia  and  Scba  for  them  ;  but  when  we  were 
to  be  redeemed,  kingdoms  and  empires  are  too  poor  a 
ransom.  "  He  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered 
him  up  for  us  all  ;"  yea,  he  purchased  his  church  with 
his  own  blood,  and  has  never  repented  of  the  price. 
Hence  he  estimates  us,  not  by  what  we  are,  but  by  what 
we  have  cost  him.  The  consequence  is,  that  we,  who 
are  so  worthless  as  to  be  almost  unworthy  of  each 
other's  love,  are  regarded  by  him  as  his  peculiar  trea- 
sure. To  remind  us  of  our  relation  to  him  and  the 
value  he  sets  on  us,  he  calls  us  by  a  new  name,  the 
name  of  Israel.  He  styles  us  his  purchased  possession  ; 
his  portion,  yea,  his  pleasant  portion  ;  the  lot  of  his  in- 
heritance; his  glory;  his  royal  diadem  and  crown.  Will 
he  then  abandon  that,  which  he  so  much  values,  which 
cost  him  so  dear  ?  Will  he  fail  to  be  with,  to  preserve, 
to  provide  for,  his  own  ?  Never.  He  will  keep  them  as 
the  apple  of  his  eye.  "  In  his  love  and  in  his  pity  he 
redeemed  them;"  and  the  same  love  and  pity,  still 
operating  in  all  their  unsearchable  riches,  shall  call  forth 
his  omnipotence  to  protect,  and  his  grace  to  uphold, 
and  his  greatness  to  bless  them. 

3.  There  is  yet  another  reason  assigned,  why  we 
should  cast  away  fear  in  the  hour  of  tribulation — the 
covenant  which  God  has  formed  with  his  people^  insures 
the  J uljilment  of  his  promises.  *'  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God," 
says  he,  "  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  thy  Saviour  ;"  thus 
implying  that  he  had  entered  into  some  engagement 
with  his  Israel;  that  he  considers  himself  bound  to  be 
with  them  in  their  troubles  and  distresses  ;  that  his  own 
veracity,  his  own  faithfulness,  are  at  stake,  and  would 
be  sacrificed  if  Israel  were  forsaken  or  injured.  He 
thus  connects  his  own  honour  with  their  safety,  and 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted.  5 1 1 

affords  them  another  ground  of  confidence,  which  can 
never  fail  them.  For  his  own  names'  sake,  he  will  never 
withdraw  his  loving. kindness  from  them  ;  and  for  his 
honour's  sake,  he  will  arise,  help,  and  deliver  them  in 
every  time  of  trouble. 

In  reviewing  the  subject  before  us,  there  is  one  re- 
flection, which  must  have  already  occurred  to  us — how 
rich  in  consolation  is  the  word  of  God !  It  not  only  bids 
the  afflicted  Christian  not  to  fear,  but  it  encourages  him 
to  obey  this  command  by  affording  him  seasonable  and 
precious  promises  ;  and  as  though  these  were  not  suffi- 
cient, as  though  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  could  not  be 
taken  at  his  word,  it  reasons  with  him,  and  gives  him 
arguments  to  convince  him  that  his  G(5d  will  not  fail 
nor  disappoint  him.  It  does  not  deceive  him  with  flat- 
tering representations;  it  tells  him,  like  a  faithful  wit- 
ness, that  he  must  expect  to  pass  through  much  tribu- 
lation in  his  way  to  heaven  ;  but  then  it  reminds  him  of 
the  power  that  created  him,  of  the  stupendous  grace 
and  mercy  that  redeemed  him,  of  the  inviolable  faith- 
fulness by  which  his  salvation  is  secured ;  and  it  as- 
sures him  that  all  these  are  as  much  concerned  in  his 
present  as  in  his  future  welfare,  are  as  much  exercised 
in  preserving  him  amidst  the  afflictions  of  time,  as  in 
saving  him  from  the  woes  of  eternity.  It  seems  as 
though  God  were  determined  to  make  his  afflicted  chil- 
dren trust  in  him  and  be  happy  ;  as  though  he  wrote 
the  Bible  for  the  very  purpose  of  rejoicing  their  hearts. 
It  is  so  peculiarly  adapted  to  their  condition,  so  won- 
derfully suited  to  the  misgivings  and  workings  of  their 
minds,  that  none  but  he,  who  knows  the  heart  and  feels 
the  tenderest  compassion  for  its  sorrows,  could  have 
written  it.  It  is  in  affliction  that  we  learn  its  value  and 
discover  its  richness,  that  we  feel  its  power  and  taste 


513  The  Exhortation  and  Promises 

its  sweetness.  Make  it  then  the  constant  companion  of 
your  afflicted  hours.  As  you  enter  the  fire  and  the 
flames,  resolve  to  meditate  on  it  more  frequently,  to 
search  it  more  dilii^ently,  to  pray  over  it  more  fervently. 
He,  who  delights  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  will  not  pe- 
rish, will  not  even  be  dismayed,  in  his  affliction-  Trou- 
ble and  anguish  may  take  hold  of  him,  but  the  statutes 
of  God  will  still  be  his  songs  in  the  house  of  his  pil- 
grimage ;  he  will  still  rejoice  in  the  way  of  his  testi- 
monies, and  love  them  as  his  delight  and  his  coun- 
sellors. 

Hoxv  essential  to  our  happiness  is  a  knowledge  of  our 
interest  in  the  divine  promises ;  not  merely  an  occasional 
and  feeble  hope  that  we  are  the  people  for  whom  they 
were  designed,  but  such  an  habitual  and  lively  convic- 
tion of^the  met,  as  will  enable  us  to  appropriate  them 
to  ourselves  and  rejoice  in  them  I  It  is  plain  that  the 
promise  in  the  text  is  not  made  to  all  mankind.  It  is 
addressed  to  Jacob,  to  Israel,  to  those  whom  God  has 
formed  for  himself,  redeemed,  and  made  his  own.  It 
follows  therefore  that  we  must  be  redeemed  before  we 
can  have  any  interest  in  it,  and  that  we  must  know  we 
are  redeemed  before  we  can  trust  or  rejoice  in  it.  This 
full  assurance  of  hope  is  not  indeed  necessary  to  our 
salvation,  but  it  is  necessary  to  our  happmess. 
Without  it  the  troubled  saint  is  like  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  driven  with  the  wind  and  tossed;  with  it,  he  is 
like  a  vessel  safe  at  anchor  in  its  port,  defying  every 
storm.  The  doubting  Christian,  when  sorrow  comes 
upon  him,  can  scarcely  lift  up  his  trembling  hands  in 
prayer  ;  while  he,  who  is  strong  in  faith,  wrestles  with 
his  God  and  comes  boldly  to  his  throne.  The  one  is 
bowed  down  with  grief,  and  is  almost  a  stranger  to 
praise;  the  other  has  songs  and  everlasting  joy  resting 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted.  513 

on  his  head.  The  one  hangs  up  his  harp  on  the  wil- 
lows, sits  down,  and  weeps ;  the  other  awakes  up  his 
lute  and  harp,  and  sings,  though  a  pilgrim  in  a  strange 
land,  the  songs  of  Zion.  *'  Wherefore,  brethren,  give 
diligence  to  make  your  calling  and  election  sure."  A 
sure  and  certain  hope  is  attainable  by  every  redeemed 
sinner,  a  rational  and  Scriptural  hope,  as  free  from  the 
rashness  of.  enthusiasm  and  the  boldness  of  presump- 
tion, as  the  confidence  of  Job  or  the  hope  of  Paul.  It 
may  be  sought  by  you  without  arrogance,  and,  if  sought 
in  the  way  of  holiness  and  praj  er,  it  will  in  the  end  be 
assuredly  found  by  you.  Covet  it  earnestly  therefore; 
seek  it  diligently.  Leave  no  longer  in  suspense  a  mat- 
ter, in  which  so  much  is  involved ;  but,  "  forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto 
those  things  which  are  before,  press  toward  the  mark 
for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus." 

How  full  of  confidence  and  praise  ought  they  to  be, 
who  live  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  divine  presence  and  love 
in  the  hour  of  trouble  !  It  is  tranquillizing  and  sweet  to 
have  a  beloved  ftiend  near  us  when  our  sorrows  are 
multiplied  upon  us,  but  what  is  the  presence  of  the 
dearest  earthly  friend,  when  compared  with  the  pre- 
sence of  a  sympathizing  God?  This  of  all  consolations 
is  the  most  cheering,  of  all  blessings  the  most  transcen- 
dant.  Every  other  mercy  is  comprehended  in  it  or 
flows  from  it.  It  defends  us  better  than  twelve  legions 
of  angels  could  defend  us,  and  it  imparts  greater  com- 
fort to  the  soul  than  all  the  inhabitants  of  earth  and 
heaven  could  give,  though  they  were  all  to  unite  their 
efforts  to  make  us  blessed.  How  did  the  church  of  old 
confide  and  rejoice  in  the  enjoyment  of  this  blessing  I 
Her  enemies  troubled  her;  they  were  ready  to  over- 

3  T 


iil4i  The  Exhortation  and  Promises 

power  and  destroy  her ;  but  she  feared  not  their  vio- 
lence. They  threatened  and  raged,  but  she  exulted  in 
the  midst  of  her  dangers ;  and  this  was  the  ground  of 
her  exultation,  and  her  boast  in  her  triumph,  *'  The 
Lord  of  hosts  is  with  us ;  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our 
refuge." 

Another  inference  is  suggested  by  the  text — how 
blind  to  their  own  interest  mid  happiness  are  they^  who 
reject  the  gospel  of  Christ !  You  read  and  hear  the  rich 
promises  of  this  gospel,  but  the  consciences  of  many 
of  you  testify  that  you  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  them. 
And  yet  you  might  have  an  interest  in  these  promises. 
You  might  have  him,  who  created  and  formed  you,  for 
your  Saviour.  You  might  be  his,  and  lie  yours.  You 
might  enjoy  his  presence  in  affliction,  and  sing  of  his 
love  and  preserving  care  in  tribulation.  But  you  make 
light  of  these  mercies.  You  willingly  give  them  up. 
And  for  what  ?  For  any  thing  that  supplies  their  place  ? 
'  For  any  thing  that  makes  you  peaceful  and  happy  when 
trouble  comes  upon  you  ?  Alas,  no !  You  sacrifice 
them  for  mean  and  powerless  trifles;  for  bubbles, 
which  amuse  you  one  hour,  and  theji  burst  and  disap- 
point you  the  next ;  for  vanities,  which  leave  you  dis- 
satisfied even  in  your  brightest  hours,  and  which  when 
you  most  need  their  aid,  in  the  day  of  adversity,  in 
the  hour  of  sickness,  and  on  the  bed  of  death  abandon 
you  a  prey  to-  wretchedness  and  fear.  Now  are  you 
acting  wisely,  are  you  acting  rationally,  brethren,  in 
resigning  for  these  things  the  enjoyment  of  God?  Arc 
they  worth  the  price  you  are  paying  for  them  ?  Is  your 
conduct  such  as  your  own  consciences  approve  ?  It  is 
not,  it  cannot  be.  There  arc  times  when  reason  and 
conscience  loudly  condemn  you.  There  are  hours  of 
retirement  and  darkness,  when  you  are  constrained  to 


of  God  to  the  Afflicted,  5 id 

confess  your  folly,  to  feel  your  littleness,  to  be  ashamed 
of  your  degradation.  And  must  it  ever  be  thus  ?  In  a 
world  so  full  of  disquietude  and  calamity  as  this,  must 
you  ever  be  strangers  to  the  only  blessing  which  can 
support  you  under  its  burdens,  and  cheer  you  amidst 
its  evils  ?  Shall  the  parched  and  dying  pilgrim  refuse 
for  ever  to  drink  of  the  refreshing  stream  ?  In  mercy 
to  your  souls,  forsake  the  fountain  of  living  waters  no 
more.  No  more  spend  money  for  that  which  is  not 
bread,  nor  your  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not. 
You  have  tried  the  world  often  and  long,  and  it  has 
always  deceived  you  when  you  have  tried  it ;  you  have 
found  it  to  be  exactly  what  the  Bible  describes  it  to  be, 
a  broken  cistern  that  can  hold  no  water.  But  you  have 
never  tried  God,  never  sought  consolation  in  him,  never 
put  the  power  of  his  gospel  to  the  test.  O  be  persuaded 
to  make  the  trial  now  !  Seek  with  your  w  hole  soul  that 
mercy,  and  grace,  and  consolation,  which  he  has  trea- 
sured up  for  sinners  in  Christ.  Deploring  your  folly 
and  mourning  over  your  guilt,  go  to  that  Saviour,  who 
can  cure  you  of  the  one,  and  cleanse  you  from  the 
other.  He  has  invited  the  weary  and  heavy  laden  to 
come  to  him.  In  compliance  therefore  with  his  gracious 
call,  go  and  cast  the  burden  of  your  sins  and  sorrows 
upon  him,  and  you  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls ;  a 
peace,  which  passes  all  understanding  j  a  joy,  which 
none  of  the  troubles  of  time  can  destroy,  nor  any  of 
the  events  of  eternity  impair.  * 


SERMON  XXXIV. 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  A  FREQUENT  RE 
TROSPECT  OF  Lit  E. 


DEUTERONOMY   Vlll.    %. 

Thou  shalt  refnember  all  (he  nuat/,  which  (he  Lord  (hy  God  led  (hee 
(hese  for(y  years  m  (he  luilderness,  (o  humble  (hee,  and  (o  firove  thee ; 
(0  know  nvhat  was  iti  thine  heart,  whether  thou  wouldest  keep  his 
commandments  or  no. 


1  HIS  was  one  of  the  dying  charges,  which  were  given 
by  Moses  to  the  children  of  Israel.  It  is  however  as 
applicable  to  us,  as  it  was  to  them.  If  we  have  not,  like 
this  peculiar  people,  been  led  through  a  wilderness,  we 
are  living  in  a  world,  which  closely  resembles  one  ;  and 
the  years  we  have  passed  in  it  ought  to  live  in  our  me- 
mories and  affect  our  hearts.  We  have  not  entirely 
done  with  these  years.  Their  fleeting  hours  are  indeed 
gone,  but  the  God  who  gave  them  to  us,  requires  them 
again  at  our  hands.  He  requires  not  only  an  account  of. 
them,  whichmust  be  rendered  hereafter,  but  a  remem- 
brance and  improvement  of  them^  which  must  be  our 
work  and  concern  now. 

To  aid  us  in  this  work,  let  us  direct  our  attention, 
firsts  to  the  way,  which  we  are  called  on  m  the  text  to 
remember  ;  secondly.,  to  the  merciful  designs  of  God  in 
leading  us  along  it ;  and,  thirdly,  to  the  advantages, 
which  we  shall  derive  from  a  devout  remembrance 
of  it. 

I.   We  are  to  consider,  first,  the  way,  which  we  are 


The  Advantages  of  a  Frequent,  &c.      517 

here  called  on  to  remember.  It  is  "  all  the  way,  which 
the  Lord  our  God  has  led  us;"  the  whole  course  of 
his  dispensations  towards  us  from  the  day  of  our  birth 
to  the  present  hour.  We  cannot  recall  every  event  that 
has  befallen  us,  for  many  of  them  have  long  since  been 
blotted  from  our  remembrance  ;  but  they  have  all  been 
deserving  of  our  recollection,  they  are  all  important. 
Even  the  most  minute  occurrences  in  our  history  have 
had  some  influence  on  our  condition  and  character ; 
they  are  aflfecting  us  now,  and  will  continue  to  affect 
us  through  an  endless  eternity. 

1.  But  while  all  the  events  of  our  life  ought  to  be 
preserved  in  our  memories,  those  events  ought  espe- 
cially  to  be  treasured  up  there,  which  are  more  imme- 
diately connected  with  the  way,  that  is  leading  us  to 
heaven.  And  among  these  the  means.,  by  which  we  were 

first  brought  into  this  way,  should  hold  a  chief  place  in 
our  minds.  There  was  a  time,  when  we  were"  travelling 
in  a  very  different  path.  We  walked  after  the  course 
of  this  world,  and  heedlessly  hurried  on  with  the  mul- 
titude around  us  in  the  broad  road  to  destruction.  But 
before  the  hour  of  destruction  came,  infinite  mercy 
stopped  us,  and  led  us  weeping  and  trembling  into  an- 
other path.  What  then  were  the  means,  which  were 
employed  to  stop  and  to  turn  us  ?  What  were  the  cir- 
cumstances, which  first  brought  us  on  our  knees,  and 
drew  the  first  prayer  from  our  hearts  and  the  first  tear 
of  contrition  from  our  eyes  ?  By  what  friend  were  we 
warned?  By  whose  prayers  were  we  moved?  By 
whose  example  were  we  won  ?  Let  these  questions 
often  be  answered.  Let  the  commencement  of  our 
Christian  pilgrimage  be  often  reviewed ;  and  let  the 
feelings  it  excites  be  ever  cherished  in  our  breasts. 

2.  We  are  called  on  to  remember  also  the  ajfiictions, 


518  7  'he  Advantages  of  a  Frequent 

with  which  we  have  been  visited  since  we  have  been 
walking  in  the  path  of  life.  We  never  knew  what  true 
happiness  meant  till  we  were  led  into  this  path,  but, 
notwithstanding  the  peace  we  have  found  in  it,  we  have 
had  many  an  hour  of  sorrow  since  we  entered  it.  And 
ought  we  to  forget  these  hours  ?  Ought  we  to  drive 
from  our  remembrance  the  scenes  of  trouble  and  temp- 
tation, through  which  we  have  passed  ;  the  days  of  sick- 
ness and  despondency,  which  have  been  sent  to  us  ;  the 
health  that  has  forsaken  us ;  the  friends  that  irre  gone ; 
the  comforts  that  are  fled;  the  gourds  that  yre  withered? 
O  no !  "  Remembering  our  affliction  and  our  misery, 
the  wormwood  and  the  gall ;  our  soul  hath  them  still 
in  remembrance,  and  is  humbled  within  us."  And  thus, 
brethren,  it  should  be.  "  Thou  shalt  also  consider  in 
thine  heart,"  says  the  prophet  in  the  fifth  verse,  "  that  as  a 
man  chasteneth  his  son,  so  the  Lord  thy  God  chasteneth 
thee."  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  slight  this  command  and 
make  light  of  this  chastening.  It  is  sinful  to  faint  and  be 
discouraged  under  affliction,  but  as  for  forget-ting  and 
despising  it,  the  Christian  trembles  at  the  thought.  If  it 
must  be  so,  let  him  go  softly  all  his  days  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  his  soul,  let  him  take  a  sorrowful  and  troubled 
spirit  down  with  him  to  the  grave — all  will  be  well  at 
last ;  but  to  have  a  careless  and  hardened  heart,  when 
the  Lord  God  of  hosts  calls  to  weeping  and  mourning, 
is  to  be  accursed  and  undone. 

3.  Neither  must  our  mercies  be  forgotten  in  the  re- 
trospect of  our  lives.  It  pleased  God  to  distinguish  the 
Israelites  in  the  wilderness  by  peculiar  and  very  un- 
common interpositions  of  his  power.  We  are  told  in 
the  fourth  verse,  that  for  forty  years  their  raiment  waxed 
not  old  upon  them,  neither  did  their  feet  swell.  When 
they  were  thirsty,  he  brought  them  forth  water  out  of 


Retrospect  of  Life.  519 

the  rock  of  flint ;  and  when  they  were  hungry,  he  fed 
them  with  bread  from  heaven.  The  interference  of  God 
on  our  behalf  has  not  been  so  visible,  but  it  has  not 
been  less  real.  The  food,  with  which  from  day  to  day 
our  table  has  been  spread  ;  the  raiment,  which  has  co- 
vered us ;  the  innumerable  evils,  that  have  been  warded 
off  from  us ;  and  the  daily  comforts,  that  we  have  en- 
joyed, are  as  much  to  be  ascribed  to  the  exercise  of  his 
providence,  as  though  they  had  been  given  to  us  by  a 
succession  of  miracles. 

But  there  are  few  among  us,  who,  in  looking  back 
on  the  past,  are  not  able  to  perceive  some  striking  ma- 
nifestations of  the  divine  goodness  towards  them ;  and 
these  we  should  more  especially  be  often  setting  before 
us.  We  should  endeavour  to  bring  them  one  after  an- 
other into  our  minds,  with  all  the  various  circumstances 
connected  with  them,  their  seasonableness,  their  great- 
ness, the  tenderness  with  which  they  were  given,  and 
the  impressions  which  they  made  on  our  hearts.  With- 
out this  close  and  particular  contemplation  of  our  mer- 
cies, we  shall  be  strangers  to  any  lively  feelings  in  the 
review  of  them.  They  must  be  singled  out  in  order  to 
produce  any  salutary  eflfect.  Indeed  experience  proves 
that  a  distinct  review  of  one  signal  instance  of  mercy, 
will  often  force  the  heart  to  feel  and  the  lips  to  praise, 
when  a  hurried  retrospect  of  the  Almighty's  general 
goodness  towards  us  will  leave  us  cold  and  unmoved. 
Our  memories  then  must  be  a  register  of  mercies;  a 
book,  to  which  we  can  go  and  find  recorded  in  it  a  his- 
tory of  every  remarkable  mercy,  wherewith  God  has 
visited  us — the  health,  which  he  has  sent  to  us  in  the 
hour  of  sickness;  the  friends,  who  have  been  raised 
up  for  us  in  the  season  of  difficulty ;  the  light,  which 
has  risen  on  us  in  our  darkness  ;  and  the  peace,  which 
has  been  shed  abroad  in  our  souls  in  our  sorrow. 


520  The  Advantages  of  a  Frequent 

4.  T/ie  sins,  which  we  have  comjuitted  in  the  midst 
of  our  afflictions  and  blessings,  must  also  be  often  re- 
traced, not  merely  viewed  in  a  mass,  but,  like  our  mer- 
cies, contemplated  one  by  one  with  all  their  aggrava- 
tions. Indeed  if  we  are  really  acquainted  with  the 
power  of  godliness,  whatever  else  we  forget,  we  shall 
never  forget  our  sins.  The  prisoner  could  as  soon  for- 
get the  walls  which  confine  him,  or  the  sick  man  the 
pain  which  is  racking  him.  But  to  keep  a  lively  sense 
of  guilt  in  his  mind,  the  most  humble  Christian  will 
often  find  it  necessary  to  go  over  the  multiplied  trans- 
gressions of  his  life.  He  must  review  his  want  of  watch- 
fulness on  this  occasion,  and  the  pride  and  self-suffi- 
ciency, which  he  has  manifested  on  that.  He  must  think 
of  the  pollutions,  by  which  some  of  his  days  have  been 
stained  ;  and  the  lusts,  by  which  many  of  his  nights 
have  been  embittered ;  the  careless  and  worldly  state 
of  his  heart  in  prosperity,  and  its  murmuring  and  un- 
humbled  state  in  adversity.  He  must  recal  the  tempta- 
tions, to  which  he  has  yielded,  the  resolutions  he  has 
broken,  the  duties  he  has  neglected,  the  evil  tempers 
he  has  betrayed,  the  corruptions  he  has  indulged. 

II.  The  remembrance  of  these  things  however,  in 
order  to  be  beneficial  to  us,  must  be  accompanied  with 
a  lively  conviction  of  the  overruling  providence  of  God 
in  all  that  has  happened  to  us,  and  as  lively  a  sense  of 
his  connection  with  us.  It  is  not  chance,  that  has 
•brought  us  hitherto.  It  is  not  chance,  that  has  regu- 
lated the  circumstances  in  which  we  have  been  placed, 
and  measured  out  to  us  the  mercies  and  afflictions 
which  we  have  received.  No ;  it  is  God,  the  living 
God,  "  The  Lord  our  God,"  who  has  led  us  in  all  the 
way.  And  it  is  the  relation,  in  which  he  stands  towards 
us  as  our  God;  that  gives  so  much  importance  to  the 


Retrospect  of  Life.  52  i 

past.  It  is  this,  which  makes  our  blessings  so  sweet, 
our  trials  so  afFecting-,  and  our  sins  so  fearful.  The  sins, 
which  array  themselves  before  us,  have  all  been  com- 
mitted against  a  Being  of  infinite  power  to  avenge  his 
wrongs,  and  of  infinite  mercy  to  pardon  them  ;  they 
have  dishonoured  and  wounded  him,  who  came  down 
to  the  earth  to  die  for  us,  and  who  now  lives  in  heaven 
to  save  us.  The  trials  which  we  have  received,  have 
come  from  a  Father,  who  loves  us  with  a  tenderness 
unknown  to  the  children  of  men,  and  who  in  all  our 
afflictions  has  shared  our  troubles  and  been  afflicted 
also.  Our  blessings  too  have  all  been  the  gifts  of  one 
who  is  dearer  to  our  souls  than  any  other  being  in  the 
universe ;  pledges  of  his  love,  whose  favour  is  better 
than  life,  and  for  the  smiles  of  whose  countenance  we 
are  ready  to  sacrifice  every  other  delight.  Why  then 
has  he  so  often  troubled  and  grieved  the  people,  who 
love  him  so  well  and  are  so  exceedingly  dear  to  him  ? 
What  are  his  merciful  designs  in  leading  them  through 
a  wilderness  to  the  land  of  their  rest  ?  The  text  answers 
this  question.  It  points  out  to  us  the  ends  which  God 
had  in  view  in  afflicting  the  Jews,  and  it  consequently 
affords  us  the  means  of  discoverinj^  the  reasons  of  his 
diversified  dispensations  towards  ourselves.  They  have 
all  had  their  origin  in  mercy,  and  the  end  of  them  all  is 
the  same — to  conduct  us  to  heaven,  and  to  prepare  us 
for  the  enjoyment  of  its  blessedness. 

1.  They  are  intended  to  humble  us.  All  is  humility 
in  that  kingdom,  wherein  God  dwells.  Here,  in  this 
fallen  world,  the  meanest  sinner  lifts  up  himself  against 
him  5  but  there  the  loftiest  archangels  cast  down  their 
orowns,  and  prostrate  themselves  before  his  footstool. 
Before  we  can  enter  this  glorious  world,  we  also  must 
learn  to  abase  ourselves.  Tiie  pride  which  we  brought 

3  U 


522  The  Jldvantages  of  a  Frequent 

into  the  world  with  us,  must  be  rooted  out,  our  spirit 
of  independence  broken,  and  our  self-will  destroyed. 
To  affect  this  change  within  us,  is  the  first  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  our  souls,  and  the  immediate  object  of 
all  the  divine  dispensations  towards  us.  We  remember 
the  thrilling    sense  of  our  depravity  and  meanness, 
which  made  us  tremble  when  sovereign  mercy  first  led 
us  aside   from   the  thoughtless  crowd,   and  wq  then 
thought  for  a  season  that  our  pride  was  destroyed  for 
ever.     But  we   soon  discover  that  the  enemy  was  only 
repulsed.    Before  we  were  aware,  he  renewed  the  con- 
flict with  the  Spirit  of  grace,  and  has  ever  since  been 
struggling  to  climb  up  again  to  his  former  throne  in 
our  hearts.    Now  afiliction  is  designed  to  assist  us  in 
our  warfare  with  this  tyrant  of  the  soul.    It  is  sent  to 
make  us  feel  how  weak  and  how  vile  ue  are,  how  little 
we  have  to  trust  in,  and  how  much  to  be  ashamed  of. 
The  mercies  also,  which  are  blended  with  our  afflic- 
tions, are  intended  to  revive  and  strengthen  the  same 
convictions.    When  not  traced  up  to  God  as  their  au- 
thor,  they  puff  up  and  injure  us,  and  prepare  the  way 
for  sharp  tribulations  ;  but  when  we  receive  them  as 
the  bounties  of  his  grace,  they  excite  in  the  Christian  a 
feeling  of  shame  and  humiliation,  which  melts  his  soul 
and  lays  him  in  the  dust.     It  is   in  these  seasons  of 
mercy,  that  the  remembrance  of  his  sins  is  so  peculiarly 
lively  and  constraining.  He  sees  that  his  God  has  par- 
doned them,  and.  now  he  is  not  afraid  to  search  them 
out.    He  remembers  his  guilt,  and  dwells  upon  the  re- 
collection, not  because,  being  delivered  from  its  con- 
demning power,  he  is  the  more   reconciled  to  it,  but 
because  it  endears  to  him  the  grace  which  has   par- 
doned it,  and  the  Saviour  by  whose  blood  it  has  been 
cleansed.  * 


Ret vospect  of  Life,  533 

2.  The  various  changes  in  our  condition  have  been 
designed  also  to  prove  us.  "  Thou  shalt  remember  all 
the  way,  which  the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee  to  prove 
thee,  to  know  what  was  in  thine  heart,  whether  thou 
wouldest  keep  his  commandments  or  no."  Not  that 
God  is  ignorant  of  our  hearts  ;  ftir  from  it ;  he  knows 
them  much  better  than  we  know  them  ourselves ;  but 
for  wise  and  gracious  reasons,  he  often  puts  his  ser- 
vants to  the  test,  as  though  he  knew  them  not,  and  tries 
their  faith,  their  patience,  and  their  love,  by  placing 
them  in  situations,  which  are  calculated  to  call  these 
graces  into  exercise,  and  which,  at  the  same  time,  ren- 
der the  exercise  of  them  peculiarly  difficult.  At  one 
time  he  gives  them  health  and  prosperity  to  see  whe- 
ther they  will  consecrate  to  him  their  strength  and 
abundance ;  at  another  time  he  lays  them  on  the  bed  of 
sickness,  and  adds  to  the  pains  of  sickness  the  trials  of 
poverty,  that  he  may  know  whether  they  will  bless  him 
when  he  takes  away  as  well  as  when  he  gives.  Now  he 
exalts  them  to  honour,  that  he  may  try  whether  they 
will  lay  down  their  worldly  honours  at  his  feet ;  and 
now  he  suffers  persecution  to  rage  against  them,  and 
exposes  them  to  contempt  and  shame,  that  he  may  dis- 
cover how  much  they  are  willing  to  sacrifice  for  his 
sake,  and  whether  they  have  yet  learned  to  glory  in  the 
reproach  of  Christ.  Thus  he  tempted  his  beloved 
Abraham,  when  he  commanded  him  to  lay  his  only 
son  Isaac  on  the  altar.  Thus,  during  his  abode  on 
earth,  he  tried  his  disciples,  when  he  suffered  the 
winds  and  the  waves  to  toss  them.  And  thus  in  all  the 
various  occurrences  of  our  life  he  is  proving  us,  put- 
ting our  professional  attachment  to  the  test  in  every 
scene  and  every  company  into  which  we  are  carried,  by 
every  mercy  which  gladdens,  and  by  every  trouble 
iVhich  grieves  us. 


5  24<  The  Advantages  of  a  Frequent 

3.  There  is  a  third  effect,  which  the  vicissitudes  of 
life  are  calculated  to  produce ;  they  have  a  tendency  to 
teach  us  the  insufficiency  of  all  worldly  things  to  make 
ns  happy ^  and  the  all-sufficie?jcy  of  God  to  bless  us.  Now 
this  is  a  truth,  brethren,  which  ".ve  are  all  very  slow  of 
heart  to  believe.  Mankind  in  general  utterly  discredit 
it.  In  opposition  to  the  plain  declarations  of  the  Bible, 
nay,  in  direct  opposition  to  their  own  experience,  they 
imagine  that  happiness  is  greatly,  if  not  altogether,  de- 
pendent on  external  circumstances,  and  the  enjoyment 
of  worldly  prosperity.  And  even  those  among  us,  who 
have  begun  to  set  their  affections  on  heavenly  things, 
find  it  difficult  to  preserve  a  lively,  deep,  and  abiding 
conviction  of  this  truth.  There  are  seasons  indeed  when 
we  cannot  doubt  it ;  seasons,  in  which  the  world  seems 
nothing  to  us,  and  when  the  language  of  our  hearts  is, 
*'  Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon 
us."  But  we  rise  up  from  our  knees,  we  lay  aside  our 
Bibles,  we  leave  our  closets,  and  then  the  things  of  the 
world,  which  but,  an  hour  before  seemed  so  poor  and 
mean,  assume  their  wonted  importance,  and  we  are 
again  tempted  to  think  them  necessary,  or  at  least 
highly  conducive  to  our  happiness.  We  still  believe 
that  we  might  be  enabled  to  be  patient  and  submissive 
in  tribulation ;  but  as  for  being  happy  when  our  pros- 
pects are  blasted,  our  affairs  ruined,  our  friends  de- 
parted from  us,  and  our  children  dead,  the  supposition 
appears  to  us  erroneous,  if  not  absurd.  To  root  out 
from  our  minds  an  opinion  so  dishonourable  to  him 
and  so  injurious  to  ourselves,  the  Lord  places  us  in  a 
variety  of  situations,  and  leads  us  through  many  diversi- 
fied scenes.  He  surrounds  us  with  all  that  the  world  de- 
sires  and  envies,  leaves  no  earthly  want  unsupplied,  and 
scarcely  an  earthly  desire  ungratified;  and  then  he  suf- 


Retrospect  of  Life.  525 

fers  us  to  withdraw  for  a  season  from  him,  and  makes 
our  hearts  ache  within  us,  till  we  are  brought  to  ac- 
knowledge the  poverty  of  the  tilings  whicti  we  once 
deemed  so  rich  in  happiness,  the  utter  en;ptiness  of  the 
cisterns  which  once  seemed  so  full  and  refreshing.  At 
another  time  he  takes  from  us  almost  all  that  he  had  given 
us,  strips  us  of  property,  reputation,  health,  and  rela- 
tives ;  and  then  he  draws  us  near  to  himself,  and  puts 
such  comfort,  such  peace,  such  exalted  blessedness 
into  our  hearts,  that  our  most  afflicted  hours  become 
our  happiest.  Thus  he  teaches  us  that  in  having  him, 
even  had  we  nothing  else,  we  have  all  that  we  need 
desire ;  and  that  without  him,  though  rich  in  every 
other  good,  we  have  nothing.  This  is  the  truth,  which 
is  inculcated  in  the  verse  following  the  text.  *'  He  suf- 
fered thee  to  hunger,"  said  Moses  to  Israel,  "  and  fed 
thee  with  manna,  which  thou  knewest  not,  neither  did 
thy  fathers  know,  that  he  might  make  thee  know  that 
man  doth  not  live  by  bread  only,  but  by  every  word 
that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  doth 
man  live." 

III.  These  then  are  the  immediate  purposes,  for 
which  the  Lord  has  led  us  through  so  many  trials  and 
mercies  in  our  way  to  heaven.  There  are  however 
'  other  ends,  which  they  have  been  designed  to  answer ; 
and  that  these  may  be  accomplished,  he  commands  us 
to  look  back  on  the  course  in  which  we  have  walked, 
and  has  connected  with  the  retrospect  many  spiritual 
benefits. 

1.  A  review  of  the  past  is  calculated  fo  confirm  our 
faith  in  the  Bible.    Our  lives  are  practical  illustrations 
of  this  blessed  book.     Indeed  the  whole  world  and  all 
that  is  passing  therein,  is  but  one  continued  commen- 
tary on  it,  and  confirmation  of  its  truth.    Look  at  the 


526  The  Mvantages  of  a  Frequent 

world  as  the  infidel  looks  at  it,  and  what  is  it  ?  A  world 
of  confusion  and  disorder,  over  which  chance  seems  to 
rule  in  triumph,  and  where  the  mind  is  baffled  as  it  en- 
deavours to  trace  the  footsteps  of  a  wise  and  benevolent 
Providence.  But  the  Scriptures  solve  the  mystery. 
They  give  us  a  clue,  by  which  we  unravel  the  myste- 
rious scene  around  us,  and  discern  the  ever  active 
agency  of  an  awfully  just  but  yet  compassionate  God. 
In  going  over  therefore  the  history  of  our  own  lives,  we 
shall  be  struck  with  a  multitude  of  facts,  in  which  the 
declarations,  thf  promises,  and  the  threatenings  of  the 
Bible  are  fully  verified  ;  facts,  which  prove,  beyond  the 
possibility  of  doubt,  that  he,  who  wrote  the  Bible,  is 
the  same  Being  who  is  ruling  the  world,  and  ruling  it 
too  by  laws  which  he  has  there  made  known  to  us. 
As  we  remember  how  deceitful  our  hearts  have  proved 
on  some  occasions,  and  how  desperately  wicked  on 
others  ;  how  weak  we  have  been  when  confiding  in  our 
own  strength,  and  how  strong  when  seeking  strength 
in  God  ;  how  comfortless  in  the  paths  of  vanity,  and 
how  peaceful  in  the  ways  of  righteousness ;  when  we 
recollect  the  aid  which,  sooner  or  later,  has  been  vouch- 
safed to  us  whenever  we  have  lifted  up  our  eyes  to 
heaven  for  deliverance,  and  the  disappointments  which 
we  have  invariably  experienced  when  we  have  ex- 
pected it  from  any  other  quarter ;  we  see  a  veracity  ia 
the  Bible,  a  power,  wisdom,  and  faithfulness  in  its 
Author,  which  astonish  and  delight  the  mind. 

2.  A  retrospect  of  the  past  has  a  tendency  also  to  in- 
creasy  our  knowledge  of  ourselves.  There  is  no  kind  of 
knowledge  so  useful  as  this,  and  yet  there  is  none 
which  is  so  difficult  to  be  acquired,  and  none  of  which 
men  in  general  are  so  destitute.  The  truth  is  that  most 
of  us  are  content  to  be  destitute  of  it.  We  take  no  pains 


Retrospect  of  Life,  527 

to  acquire  it,  or  at  least  no  due  pains.  We  expect  to 
learn  it  in  a  month  or  a  year;  but  it  is  a  science,  which 
may  employ  a  whole  life  in  the  study  of  it,  and  yet 
after  all  be  but  imperfectly  learnt.  We  too  often  also 
neglect  to  seek  it  in  the  proper  way.  It  is  not  to  be  ac- 
quired merely  by  listening  to  sermons,  and  reading 
books,  and  treasuring  up  the  observations  of  others; 
it  is  the  result  of  experience,  of  long,  and  close,  and 
sometimes  painful  observation  of  our  own  minds.  We 
accordingly  find  that  those  Christians,  who  commune 
the  most  with  their  own  heart  and  are  the  best  ac- 
quainted with  its  history,  have  the  deepest  views  of 
human  depravity  and  human  weakness.  They  know 
more  of  human  nature  than  other  men,  and  more  of 
themselves.  And  they  have  obtained  this  knowledj;e 
by  often  reviewing  the  past.  They  look  back  to  a 
season  of  prosperity,  and  when  they  remember  the 
pride,  and  selfishness,  and  vanity,  which  they  mani- 
fested in  it,  they  discover  that  the  folly,  which  was 
bound  up  in  their  hearts  in  their  childhood,  is  still 
dwelling  within  them,  and  that  they  have  as  much  rea- 
son as  ever  to  fear  and  distrust  themselves.  The  re- 
membrance of  their  afflictions  also  teaches  them  the 
same  lesson.  Before  tribulation  came,  they  imagined 
the  world  conquered  for  ever,  every  idol  dethroned  in 
their  heart,  and  all  its  affections  fixed  on  God  ;  but  dis- 
appointments and  troubles  forced  them  to  see  that  the 
world  is  not  subdued,  that  it  still  exercises  a  sad  and 
powerful  influence  over  them,  that  the  mind,  which 
they  thought  elevated  for  ever  above  the  reach  of  the 
most  tossing  storms  of  life,  can  be  agitated  and  dis- 
tressed by  some  of  its  gentlest  waves.  And  what  are 
they  deriving  from  a  retrospect  of  these  scenes?  A 
knowledge  of  themselves ;  of  the  leading  defects  of 
their  own  character;   of  the  graces  for  which  thev 


^28  The  Advantages  of  a  Frequent 

should  most  earnestly  pray,  and  the  evils  against  which 
they  should  most  carefully  watch  ;  of  what  they  should 
most  strenuously  labour  to  correct,  to  cast  out,  to  im- 
prove, or  lo  attain. 

3.  The  n  membrance  enjoined  in  the  text  is  calcu- 
lated also  to  strengthen  our  conjidence  in  God.  It  brings 
before  our  mind  the  help  we  have  received  in  our  diffi- 
culties, the  supplies  in  our  wants,  the  consolations  in 
our  troubles  ;  and  reasoning  from  the  past  to  the  future, 
we  are  naturally  led  to  infer  that  he,  who  never  has  for- 
saken  us,  never  will  forsake  us ;  that  the  goodness  and 
mercy,  which  have  followed  us  all  the  days  of  our  life, 
will  follow  us  still ;  that  no  viscissitudes  in  our  condi- 
tion, no  tribulation,  no  distress,  no  persecution,  no 
peril,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God^ 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord, 

It  enables  us  to  perceive  also  that  the  way,  in  which 
we  are  led,  though  it  once  seemed  and  still  seems  at 
seasons  perplexing,  is  the  right  way,  the  very  best  way, 
in  which  we  could  have  been  led.  As  we  look  back  on 
it,  we  see  with  wonder  and  thankfulness  that  our 
greatest  mercies  are  to  be  found  among  our  heaviest 
afflictions ;  that  our  God  has  been  the  nearest  to  us, 
when  we  thought  him  the  farthest  off.  We  are  now 
ready  to  acknowledge  his  goodness  in  what  he  has 
withheld  from  us,  as  well  as  in  what  he  has  given  ;  in 
the  prayers  he  has  denied,  as  well  as  in  the  prayers 
which  he  has  granted  ;  in  the  sufferings  that  have  hum- 
bled, as  well  as  in  the  blessings  that  have  gladdened 
us ;  in  the  weakness  which  has  led  us  to  him  for 
strength,  and  in  the  strength  which  has  enabled  us  to 
serve  him ;  in  the  despondency  which  has  embittered 
sin  to  our  souls,  as  well  as  in  the  joy  which  has  en- 
deared to  us  a  pardoning  Saviour;  in  the  clouds  which 
first  terrified  us;  ana  then  poured  down  blessings  od. 


Retrospect  of  Life.  5^9 

our  heads,  as  well  as  in  the  light  which  has  arisen  on 
us  in  our  darkness  and  turned  our  heaviness  into 
praise. 

On  the  whole  then  it  appears,  that  the  command  in 
the  text,  like  every  other  command  which  God  has 
given  us,  has  our  happiness,  as  well  as  his  own  honour, 
as  its  object.  He  bids  us  remember  the  way  wherein 
he  has  led  us,  because  he  wishes  to  humble  us,  to 
prove  us,  to  teach  us  his  own  all-sufficiency,  and  be- 
cause he  knows  that  we  cannot  rightly  remember  it 
without  having  our  faith  in  the  Bible  established,  our 
knowledge  of  ourselves  increased,  and  our  confidence 
in  him  strengthened.  While  therefore  we  anxiously 
enquire  whether  these  effects  have  been  produced  in 
us,  whether  the  changes  and  chances  of  this  mortal 
life  are  doing  their  appointed  work  in  our  souls,  soft- 
ening, humbling,  instructing,  establishing  us,  let  us 
endeavour  to  be  more  mindful  of  this  command;  to 
become  better  acquainted  with  our  own  history,  not 
the  history  of  our  bodies  only,  where  we  were  born, 
and  where  we  have  lived,  and  what  sickness  or  health 
has  been  our  lot,  but  the  history  of  our  minds,  what 
influence  the  dispensations  of  God  have  had  on  them; 
what  changes  have  taken  place  in  them,  and  by  what 
circumstances  these  changes  were  produced ;  how  their 
growth  in  grace  has  been  promoted,  and  how  it  has 
been  checked.  Let  us  study  the  history  of  our  princi- 
ples and  feelings,  as  well  as  the  history  of  our  outward 
circumstances  and  conditions,  and  connect  the  history 
of  both  with  God,  regarding  him  as  the  Director  of 
both,  as  the  Inspector  of  both,  as  the  Judge,  to  whom 
we  must  eventually  give  an  account  of  every  thing  that 
concerns  both. 

As  for  you,   brethren,  who  are  careless  about  your 

r>  X 


530       The  Advantages  of  a  Frequent^  &c. 

past  mercies,  trials,  and  sins,  and  occupied  only  with 
present  scenes  and  gratifications,  let  the  text  remind 
you  that  your  forgetfuhiess  of  the  past,  like  your  un- 
concern about  the  future,  is  a  sure  and  certain  mark  of 
your  present  degradation  and  future  misery.    God  has 
given  you  the  power  of  recalling  the  events  that  have 
befallen  you,  and  of  looking  forward  to  the  things  that 
are  to  come,  and  has  thus  distinguished  you  from  the 
brute  beasts  that  have  no  understanding ;  but  you  will 
not  exercise  the  power  he  has  given  you.   The  present 
is  all  that  can  interest  you.   But  though  you  forget  it, 
*'  God  requireth  that  which  is  past ;"  and  though  you 
shut  your  eyes  to  it,  the  future  is  real  and  certain,  as 
real  as  the  present,   as  certain  as  the  past,  and  much 
more  important  than  either.     You  may  live  like  the 
brutes,  but  you  cannot  perish  like  them.    The  powers 
of  your  mind,  though  not  exercised,  cannot  be  de- 
stroyed. They  will  live,  and  be  called  into  action,  in  an 
eternal  world.  The  moment  you  enter  it,  memory  will 
be  forced  to  execute  her  office,  and  will  bring  before 
your  mind  all  the  varied  events  of  your  existence.  And 
can  you  bear  this  ?   To  see  for  the  first  time  your  sins, 
when  God  is  about  to  take  vengeance   on  them ;   to 
think  for  the  first  time  of  your  mercies,  when  you  are 
about  to  be  condemned  for  the  abuse  of  them  ;  to  re- 
trace for  the  first  time  your  aiBictions,  when  wrath  is 
bursting  on  you  for  slighting  them  ;   to  look  forward 
for  the  first  time  into  futurity,  when  there  is  no  way  of 
escape  from  its  terrors,  no  hope  to  cheer  you  under  its 
miseries — if  this,  brethren,  be  the  issue  of  forgetfulness, 
and  this  the  end  of  the  forgetful,   which  of  you  does 
not  tremble  at  the  prospect  before  him?  Which  of  you 
does  not  resolve  to  be  wise,  to  remember  this,  to  con- 
sider your  latter  end  ? 


SERMON  XXXV 


THE  FEAR  OF  PETER  WHEN  WALKING  ON 
THE  SEA. 


ST.  MATTHEW  xiv.   30,  31. 

But  whs7i  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he  was  afraid ;  and  beginning 
to  sink,  he  cried,  saying,  "  Lord,  save  me."  And  immediately  Jesus 
stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  caught  him,  and  said  unto  him,  "  O 
thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  P" 


» V  E  all  know  to  which  of  our  Lord's  disciples  these 
words  relate.  Indeed  had  not  his  name  been  expressly 
mentioned,  we  could  not  have  failed  to  discover  in  this 
history  the  ardour,  the  self-confidence,  and  eventually 
the  weakness,  which  long  distinguished  the  forward 
Peter  from  the  other  apostles.  In  endeavouring  to  de- 
rive instruction  from  this  instance  of  his  frailty,  let  us 
consider,  ^r*?,  the  fear,  which  he  manifested ;  secondly y 
the  cause  of  this  fear;  thirdly,  its  consequence  ;yowrM/y, 
the  prayer,  which  it  drew  from  him ;  and,  lastly,  the 
conduct  of  Christ  towards  him. 

I.  The  fear,  which  Peter  betrayed  on  this  occasion, 
reminds  us,  as  soon  as  we  glance  at  it,  of  one  humilia- 
ting fact — the  transient  nature  of  our  best  and  strongest 
feelings  when  they  are  ?iot  kept  alive  by  divine  grace. 
But  a  few  minutes  before,  he  had  shown  a  courage  and 
a  faith,  which  were  well  warranted  indeed,  but  which 
were  at  the  same  time  truly  wonderful.  In  the  midst  of  a 
tempestuous  sea,  we  behold  him  descending  the  sides 
of  his  tossed  ship,  and  committing  himself  voluntarily 


5S2  The  Fear  of  Peter 

and  boldly  to  the  waves,  with  no  other  hope  of  preser- 
vation than  what  he  derived  from  his  dependance  on 
the  power  of  his  Master.  But  now,  though  that  power 
is  miraculously  upholding  him,  we  see  him  suddenly 
losing  his  confidence  in  it,  and  yielding  to  thfe  most 
faithless  fear. 

The  same  inconsistency  appeared  in  him  on  other 
occasions  also,  and  not  in  him  only,  but  in  all  who  have 
partaken  of  his  fallen  nature.  Look  at  Abraham.  At 
one  time  when  he  was  tried,  his  faith  was  so  strong 
that  his  hand  was  uplifted  to  offer  up  his  only  son  to 
the  Lord  ;  at  another  time,  in  the  country  of  Abime- 
lech,  he  was  so  overpowered  by  fear,  that  he  hesitated 
not  to  have  recourse  to  falsehood,  in  order  to  save  him- 
self, not  from  a  real,  but  from  an  imaginary  danger. 
Look  at  Jeremiah.  We  find  him,  in  the  twentieth  chap- 
ter of  his  prophecy,  holding  a  long  and  painful  conflict 
with  the  workings  of  unbelief.  At  length  he  seems  to 
have  triumphed  over  them,  and  breaks  forth  in  the 
thirteenth  verse  into  this  exclamation  of  confidence  and 
praise,  "  Sing  unto  the  Lord ;  praise  ye  the  Lord ;  for 
he  hath  delivered  the  soul  of  the  poor  from  the  hand  of 
evil-doers."  And  ho  w  long  does  this  strain  of  triumph  last  ? 
But  for  a  moment.  As  though  to  show  us  how  quickly 
the  most  confident  believer  can  sink  into  despondency, 
and  how  low  he  can  fall  therein,  he  utters  in  the  very 
next  verse  the  language  of  almost  impious  discontent 
and  unmixed  despair.  "  Cursed,"  says  he,  ^'  be  the 
day,  wherein  I  was  born.  Let  not  the  day,  wherein  my 
mother  bare  me,  be  blessed." 

But  we  need  not  go  to  patriarchs  and  prophets  to  find 
this  inconsistency.  We  feel  it  in  ourselves.  There  are 
reasons,  when  there  appears  a  reality,  a  life,  and  a 
warmth,  in  our  religion.    Our  iove  is  ardent,  our  faith 


ivhen  Walking  on  the  Sea.  533 

stedfast,  our  hope  towering.  Our  mountain  stands 
strong  ;  and  then  we  say  that  we  shall  never  be  nnoved, 
that  emotions  so  deep  and  powerful  must  be  lasting. 
But  let  a  few  days,  or  perhaps  only  a  few  hours,  pass 
away,  and  what  is  our  language  then  ?  "  The  Lord 
hath  hid  his  face  from  us,  and  we  are  troubled."  All 
our  lively  feelings  are  gone.  Our  soaring  hopes  are 
changed  into  gloomy  apprehensions,  our  glowing  joys 
into  a  most  distressing  coldness.  We  still  make  a 
Christian  profession ;  but  we  look  into  ourselves,  and 
can  see  little  or  nothing  there,  which  warrants  it,  no- 
thing, which  distinguishes  the  sanctified  from  the 
worldly  heart. 

Now  this  painful  experience  should  caution  us  against 
attaching  too  much  importance  to  lively  frames  and 
feelings.  When  we  enjoy  them,  it  should  teach  us  to 
expect  their  departure ;  when  we  are  destitute  of  them, 
to  remember  that  by  prayer  and  renewed  application  to 
Christ,  they  may  yet  return ;  and,  at  all  times,  it  should 
lead  us  to  be  fearful  of  making  them  in  any  degree  the 
grounds  of  our  dependance  ;  to  consider  them  as  the 
gifts  of  a  divine  Comforter,  designed  to  refresh,  but 
not  to  pufF  up  the  Christian  ;  to  encourage  his  exer- 
tions, but  not  to  make  him  trust  in  them ;  to  give  him 
strength,  not  to  lead  him  to  forget  his  weakness ;  to 
enable  him  to  glory  in  the  cross  of  Christ,  not  to  give 
him  reason  to  imagine  that  he  no  longer  needs  the 
sprinkling  of  the  blood  that  stained  it. 

But  the  fear  of  Peter  not  only  reminds  us  of  the  fleet- 
ing nature  of  our  best  feelings,  it  shows  us  also  the 
danger  of  needlessly  putting  to  the  trial  our  highest 
graces.  When  our  faith  appears  strong,  we  are  tempted 
to  think  that  no  difficulties,  no  troubles  can  subdue  it. 
The  consequence  is,  that  we  sometimes  rush  unbidden 


534  The  Fear  of  Peter 

into  temptation,  under  the  idea  that  we  shall  be  able  to 
endure  it,  and  bring  glory  to  Christ,  as  well  as  mani- 
fest our  love  to  him,. by  our  conduct  under  it.  Now 
this  was  exactly  the  case  with  Peter.  As  he  beheld  his 
Lord  walking  on  the  sea,  he  was  impressed  with  a  new 
and  deep  conviction  of  his  power,  and  an  ardent  desire 
of  being  with  him.  Thus  far  all  was  well ;  but,  in  or- 
der to  gratify  this  desire  and  to  display  the  strength  of 
this  conviction,  he  quickly  resolves  to  make  use  of  the 
grace,  of  which  he  fancied  himself  possessed,  and  asks 
permission  of  Christ  to  come  to  him  on  the  waves. 
Christ  gave  him  permission ;  and  when  he  had  shown 
him  his  own  greatness,  and  the  efficacy  of  a  firm  belief 
in  it,  he  discovered  to  his  rash  disciple  the  weakness  of 
his  fancied  strength,  and  led  him  back  to  his  vessel 
humbled  and  ashamed. 

And  thus  has  every  presumptuous  display  of  faith 
terminated.  We  have  never  in  any  degree  sought  our 
own  glory,  without  receiving  instead  of  it  humiliation 
and  shame.  We  have  never  attempted  to  display  our 
greatness,  without  exposing  our  littleness.  The  very 
moment  our  graces  are  proudly  tried  or  trusted  in,  they 
leave  us  ;  and  what  are  we  then  ?  No  more  like  what 
we  once  were,  than  that  man,  whom  the  Philistines 
bound  with  fetters  in  his  weakness,  was  like  the  Sam- 
son, who  had  formerly  driven  them  before  him.  No 
more  like  the  servants  of  Christ,  than  Peter  was,  when 
the  voice  of  a  servant-maid  caused  him  to  deny  his 
Lord.  No  more  like  men  of  godliness,  than  David  was, 
when  overcome  by  his  lusts.  Wherever  duty  calls, 
there  we  should  go,  and  there  we  may  go  with  safety, 
though  it  be  through  a  stormy  sea,  over  mountains  of 
difficulties,  and  into  the  fiercest  fires  of  temptation.  An 
humble  reliance  on  Christ  will  quench  the  violence  of 


when  Walking  on  the  Sea.  585 

the  fire,  cause  the  mountains  to  become  a  plain  before 
us,  and  the  depths  of  the  sea  a  way  for  the  ransomed 
to  pass  over.  But  to  go  rashly  into  danger  is  to  be 
liumbled  and  overcome ;  to  be  covered  with  shame, 
and  filled  with  bitterness. 

II.  Let  us  now  go  on  to  consider,  secondly,  the  cause 
of  Peter's  fear.  We  are  told  that  "  when  he  saw  the 
wind  boisterous  he  was  afraid."  But  it  could  not  be 
the  mere  rage  of  the  elements,  which  made  him  fear, 
for  they  were  equally  raging  when  he  first  put  his  feet 
on  the  waves.  It  was  his  confining  his  attention  to  their 
violence ;  his  fixing  his  eye  on  his  danger,  and  forget- 
ting the  power  of  his  Lord. 

Here  then  we  are  taught,  not  to  be  unmindful  of  our 
dangers,  but  to  keep  our  thoughts  fixed  on  the  great- 
ness  ajid  faithfulness  of  Christ  when  xvc  are  surrounded 
by  them.  Nothing,  however,  is  more  difficult  than  to 
practise  this  lesson.  Affliction  is  sent  to  us,  and  we  de- 
termine when  we  are  first  visited  by  it  to  think  only  of 
the  loving-kindness  of  him,  who  has  sent  it ;  but  stroke 
follows  stroke,  sorrow  is  heaped  upon  sorrov/,  one 
cloud  gathers  round  another,  till  at  length  our  pitying 
Father  is  no  longer  visible  ;  former  deliverances  are 
forgotten ;  we  see  the  wind  boisterous,  and  seeing  not 
him  who  is  walking  with  us  on  the  waves,  we  are  afraid. 
At  another  time,  we  have  arduous  and  painful  duties 
to  perform.  We  begin  them  with  a  firm  conviction  of 
the  all-sufficiency  of  him,  who  has  promised  that  as  is 
our  day,  so  shall  our  strength  be ;  and  as  long  as  this 
convlfction  lasts,  they  are  performed  with  cheerfulness 
and  almost  with  ease ;  but  in  the  midst  of  them,  the 
omnipotence  of  divine  grace  is  forgotten,  and  then  our 
duties  assume  a  new  and  formidable  appearance;  our 
hands  drop ;  and  wc  are  again  afraid.  The  case  is  often 


536  The  Fear  of  Peter 

the  same  also,  when  temptations  are  multiplied  around 
us,  and  our  inward  corruptions  are  harassing  us.  We 
see  the  greatness  of  our  guilt,  the  utter  helplessness  of 
our  nature ;  and,  forgetting  the  blood  which  cleanseth 
from  all  sin,  and  the  strength  which  honours  itself  in 
being  made  perfect  in  our  weakness,  we  deem  our- 
selves ready  to  perish,  and  again  our  hearts  fail  us 
for  fear. 

In  all  these  cases,  and  indeed  in  every  case,  the  cause 
of  our  fear  is  the  same.  It  is  to  be  found  in  low  con- 
ceptions of  Christ,  or  in  a  partial  forgetfulness  of  him. 
And,  in  order  to  overcome  it,  we  must  for  a  season 
look  less  at  our  dangers  and  sins,  and  contemplate 
more  closely  the  omnipotence  and  mercy  of  him,  who 
can  deliver  us  from  the  one  and  save  us  from  the  other. 
Why  was  Abraham  strong  in  faith  ?  The  apostle  tells 
us.  "  Because  he  considered  not  his  own  body  now 
dead,  neidier  yet  the  deadness  of  Sarah's  womb ;  but 
because  he  gave  glory  to  God,  and  was  fully  per- 
suaded that  what  he  had  promised  he  was  able  to 
perform." 

Away  then,  brethren,  with  all  foolish  reasonings 
about  the  greatness  of  your  troubles,  the  difficulty  of 
your  duties,  the  unpardonable  nature  of  your  sins. 
They  indicate  no  humility.  They  have  their  origin  in 
nothing  which  is  good,  and  lead  to  nothing  which  is 
useful.  On  the  contrary,  they  always  spring  from  igno- 
rance and  generally  from  pride  also :  they  impeach  the 
credit  of  the  divine  promises,  and  shake  our  confidence 
in  them ;  they  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and  Etesign 
boundaries  to  those  perfections,  which  angels  know  to 
be  infinite;  they  agitate  and  distract  the  mind,  and  often 
tempt  us  to  have  recourse  to  indirect  and  sinful  means 
of  deliverance,  means,  which  appear  likely  to  open  to 


xvhen  Walking  on  the  Sea.  537 

us  a  way  of  escape,  but  which  serve  only  to  perplex 
and  entangle  us  more.  The  man,  who  would  be  happy 
in  trouble,  and  peaceful  in  difficulties,  must  make  rea- 
son humble  itself  to  faith.  In  fact,  he  must  cease  to 
reason  at  all  about  the  matter.  With  his  eyes  fixed  on 
that  Saviour,  in  whose  arm  is  everlasting  strength,  and 
on  whose  shoulder  rests  the  government  of  the  uni- 
verse, he  must  enquire,  "  What  does  the  Lord  my 
God  require  of  me  ?  That  let  me  do.  What  has  he  pro- 
mised me?  In  thut  let  me  trust." 

III.  The  importance  of  faith  will  however  be  still 
more  evident,  if  we  consider,  thirdly,  the  consequence 
of  Peter's  fear.  He  began  to  sink.  And  why  did  he  not 
si  ilk  before  ?  Because  he  honoured  Christ  by  believing 
in  his  power,  and  then  Christ  honoured  him  by  ena- 
bling him  to  tread  the  waves  underneath  his  feet.  W^hen 
his  faith  was  strong,  he  walked  on  the  water ;  when  it 
failed  him,  he  sunk. 

One  thing  then  is  clear,  that  our  support  in  dangers 
and  trials  depends  on  our  faith.  Not  that  faith  can  do 
any  thing  of  itself  to  help  us ;  but  this  is  the  grace, 
which  peculiarly  honours  God,  and  which  he  is  there- 
fore determined  to  cover  with  honour  wherever  he  finds 
it.  Other  graces  may  be  in  some  respects  of  a  higher 
character ;  hope  may  be  more  elevating,  and  love  more 
disinterested  and  lasting  ;  but  faith  submits  to  God's 
authority :  it  lies  low  at  his  footstool ;  gives  him  there 
the  credit  of  his  faithfulness,  his  power,  and  his  glory  ; 
and  then  it  rises  up,  and  nothing  can  withstand  it.  It 
overcomes  the  world  with  its  manifold  temptations.  It 
smiles  at  dangers,  triumphs  over  difficulties,  rejoices 
in  tribulation,  and  sings  in  persecution.  Nay,  it  has 
controlled  the  elements,  and  changed  the  course  of 
nature ;   subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness, 

3  Y 


538  The  Fear  of  Peter 

obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  turned  armies  to  flight, 
and  raised  the  very  dead  to  life.  It  makes  a  man  while 
living  a  wonder  to  all  around  him,  and  when  he  dies, 
it  saves  his  soul. 

When  therefore,  in  the  hour  of  trial,  we  renounce 
the  aid  of  this  mighty  principle,  vvc  shall  most  certainly 
sink  ;  the  weakest  temptation  will  overpower,  the  most 
trifling  difficulty  discourage,  ana  the  slightest  danger 
alarm  us.  It  matters  not  to  what  other  means  of  sup- 
port we  may  have  recourse.  We  may  reason  wisely 
and  even  piously  about  our  trials,  and  endeavour  to 
fortify  ourselves  under  them  by  recollecting  all  we  have 
heard  of  the  advantages  of  overcoming,  and  the  u.^- 
lessness  of  yielding  to  them  ;  but  we  shall  find  that  our 
fears  will  not  be  reasoned  away ;  that  the  wisest  argu- 
ments will  not  make  trouble  sit  easy  upon  us,  nor  si- 
lence the  murmurs  of  discontent,  nor  quiet  an  accusing 
conscience.  Before  these  eflfects  can  be  produced,  we 
must  discover  a  more  simple  and  a  more  powerful  in- 
strument of  consolation  ;  and  where  is  this  to  be  found  ? 
Only  in  that  gospel,  where  we  are  most  unwilling  to 
look  for  it.  Other  things  may  keep  us  thoughtless  and 
hardened  in  our  trials ;  but  we  can  be  made  peaceful 
under  them  only  by  a  heart-felt  belief  in  the  Bible;  by 
that  fl\ith,  which  the  men  of  the  world  have  agreed  to 
misunderstand  and  despise,  but  the  cheering  energy  of 
which  thousands  of  the  afflicted  children  of  God  are 
hourly  experiencing.  By  faith  they  live ;  by  faith  they 
stand ;  by  failh  they  walk ;  by  faith  they  rejoice  with 
joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

IV.  But  this  is  not  all.  If  we  notice,  fourthly,  the 
prayer,  which  the  fear  of  Peter  drew  from  him,  we  shall 
discover  in  the  end  that  faith  can  raise  us  up,  even  when 


when  Walking  on  the  Sea.  539 

unbelief  has  laid  us  low.  And  what  was  this  prayer? 
^^  Lord,  save  me."  Now  this  petition,  short  as  it  is, 
may  remind  us  of  two  facts.  The  first  is  this — in  all 
our  troubles  and  fearsy  if  rue  are  really  Christians,  we 
shall  be  earnest  and  importunate  in  prayer.  It  is  secret 
and  fervent  prayer,  which  first  renders  visible  the  work 
of  a  sanctifying  Spirit  in  our  hearts ;  and  when  other 
marks  of  true  religion  are  no  longer  to  be  seen  in  us, 
when  love  has  ceased  to  animate  and  faith  to  uphold,  it 
is  fervent  prayer,  which  still  proves  that  he,  who  began 
the  good  work,  has  not  forsaken  it.  The  trials  of  the 
Christian  cause  him  to  feel  his  helplessness  ;  they  bring 
him  to  his  right  mind ;  and  then  out  of  the  depths  he 
cries  unto  the  Lord,  and  in  his  distress  he  calls  upon 
his  God.  And  though  he  is  aware  that  his  own  pride 
and  folly  have  brought  his  troubles  upon  him,  it  mat- 
ters not.  This  does  not  deter  him  from  seeking  refuge 
in  his  Saviour.  The  danger  of  Peter  was  the  fruit  of 
his  own  rashness,  and  yet  he  cries,  "Lord,  save  me." 
The  horrible  situation  of  Jonah  in  the  deep,  when  the 
floods  compassed  him  about,  and  all  the  billows  and 
the  waves  passed  over  him,  was  only  the  merited 
punishment  of  his  disobedience;  he  knew  it  to  be 
such  ;  and  yet,  when  his  soul  fainted  within  him,  he 
remembered  the  Lord,  and  his  prayer  came  in  unto 
him,  even  unto  his  holy  temple.  The  truth  is,  brethren, 
that  the  servant  of  God  is  under  all  circumstances,  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree,  a  man  of  prayer.  Look  at  him 
in  whatever  condition  we  may,  whether  in  prosperity 
or  in  adversity,  whether  stedfast  in  faith  or  sinking  with 
fear,  whether  rejoicing  in  hope  or  cast  down  with  de- 
spondency, it  may  be  said  of  him,  what  can  be  said  of 
no  other  man,  "  Behold,  he  prayeth." 

The  other  truth  exemplified  in  this  prayer  is  this — - 


540  The  Fear  of  Peter 

the  fears  of  the  real  believer,  however  strong,  are  still 
accompanied  with  a  cleaving  to  Christ,  with  a  conviction 
of  his  power  to  save,  and  an  appeal  to  his  mercy.  When 
Peter  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he  was  afraid ;  his  fliith 
appeared  utterl}^  gon^?  and  he  began  to  sink ;  but  still 
he  sinks  looking  unto  Jesus.  At  the  very  moment  when 
the  waves  were  about  to  close  over  him,  his  eyes  were 
turned  towards  his  Master;  and  had  he  perished  in  the 
sea,  his  last  words  would  have  manifested  his  belief  in 
the  Redeemer's  power.  Thus  the  true  Christian  even 
in  his  most  faithless  hours,  when  he  is  ready  to  think 
all  lost  for  ever,  and  his  ruin  near,  has  still  exalted 
thoughts  of  his  Lord's  ability  to  save,  and  a  secret  hold 
on  his  Saviour;  a  hold,  which  though  it  may  seem 
weak,  or  be  scarcely  seen  at  all,  is  yet  so  strong  that 
nothing  can  break  it.  In  the  extremity  of  his  danger 
Lis  faith  will  become  visible,  and  though  it  may  be  ac- 
companied with  much  fear,  and  sullied  by  much  unbe- 
lief, it  will  show  itself  to  be  real.  His  language  will  be, 
"  Lord,  save  me.  Though  I  dare  not  take  refuge  in 
thee,  I  have  no  other  refuge  to  flee  to.  I  dare  not  hope 
in  thy  mercy,  bul  I  know  thine  infinite  power  to  save ; 
I  know  that  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  even  help  me.  I 
will  therefore  lie  at  thy  feet,  and  though  1  perish,  I  will 
perish  there;  and  this  shall  be  my  dying  cry,  Lord, 
help  me.   Lord,  save  me." 

V.  Such  was  the  prayer  of  Peter,  and  what  was 
the  result  of  it?  The  account,  which  is  given  us  in  the 
text  of  the  conduct  of  Christ  towards  him^  will  ni- 
form  us. 

How  justly  might  the  Saviour  have  turned  his  ear 
from  his  cry !  The  faithless  disciple  had  but  a  mo- 
ment before  walked  on  the  sea,  and  it  supported  him ; 
his  Master;  who  had  made  it  firm  beneath  his  feet,  was 


when  Walking  on  the  Sea.  541 

still  standing  on  its  waves,  and  they  had  no  power  to 
hurt  him  ;  but  notwithstanding  he  had  such  convincing, 
such  apparently  overpowering  testimonies  of  the  omni- . 
potence  of  his  Lord,  he  heeded  them  not ;  he  looked  at 
the  boisterous  tempest,  and  his  faith  failed.  And  now 
surely  the  insulted  Jesus  will  suffer  him  to  perish,  or  at 
least  to  remain  for  a  season,  like  Jonah,  in  terror  and 
suspense  !  But  no;  his  heart  is  as  full  of  love  as  Peter's 
is  of  fear ;  and  the  cry  of  the  timid  disciple  no  sooner 
reaches  his  ears,  than  he  answers  him  with  the  saving 
strength  of  his  right  hand,  and  preserves  him  in  his 
arms.  *'  And  immediately  Jesus  stretched  forth  his 
hand,  and  caught  him,  and  said  unto  him,  *  O  thou  of 
little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?'  " 

Now  this  was  an  act  of  Almighty  power,  and  may 
teach  us,  first,  that  there  is  no  situation^  in  which  Christ 
cannot  help  us;  that  we  can  bring  ourselves  into  no 
perils,  from  which  he  cannot  extricate  us ;  that  we  can 
be  harassed  by  no  fears,  from  which  he  cannot  deliver 
us  ;  that  we  can  be  burdened  by  no  sins,  from  which 
he  cannot  save  us.  Here  the  winds  and  the  waves  obey 
his  voice,  and  when  the  safety  of  his  people  is  endan- 
gered, all  nature  obeys  it  also,  and  all  that  lives,  and 
moves,  and  has  a  being.  He  has  caused  the  ravens  to 
feed  them ;  he  has  sent  down  his  angels  to  deliver  them ; 
yea,  when  they  have  been  tried  above  measure,  he  has 
himself  left  the  throne  of  his  glory  to  help  them,  and 
passed  with  them  through  the  waters,  and  walked  with 
them  in  the  flames.  "  All  power  is  given  unto  him  in 
heaven  and  in  earth,"  so  that  he  is  able  to  save  to  the 
uttermost ;  to  make  all  things  work  together  for  good 
to  them  who  love  him,  and  to  show  himself  strong  in 
their  behalf. 

But  the  preservation  of  Peter  was  an  act  of  mercy  as 


54S  The  Fear  of  Peter 

well  as  of  power,  and  may  teach  us,  lastly,  that  it'  we 
are  his  obedient  people,  there  is  no  state,  in  which 
Christ  will  not  save  us.  His  people  may  doubt  his  love, 
may  dishonour  and  grieve  him  by  their  unbelief,  and 
he  will  reprove  their  sin ;  but  he  will  never  be  what 
their  fears  represent  him,  an  absent  or  a  forgetful  Sa- 
viour, fie  will  suffer  their  doubts  to  rob  them  of  their 
peace  and  joy,  but  he  will  still  keep  them  as  his  jewels, 
and  love  them  as  his  children.  Were  they  indeed  en- 
tirely to  give  up  their  hold  on  him,  they  would  sink 
into  destruction  ;  but  he  keeps  alive  within  their  heart 
the  faith,  which  his  own  Spirit  has  implanted  there  ; 
and  when  others  see  it  not,  and  they  themselves  feel  it 
not,  he  marks  it  well ;  and  sooner  might  heaven  and 
earth  perish,  than  he  refuse  to  hear  iis  cry,  or  to  grant 
its  prayer.  The  truth  is,  that  there  Ccin  be  no  real 
prayer,  without  some  degree  of  faith  ;  and  it  is  equally 
true,  that  the  weakest  faith,  if  it  be  real,  gives  the  sin- 
ner an  interest  in  the  promises  of  Christ,  as  much  as 
the  strongest,  and  makes  his  final,  though  not  his  pre- 
sent, happiness  as  sure.  The  comfort  of  the  gospel  is 
the  portion  of  those  only,  whose  faith  is  strong ;  but 
the  salvation  of  the  gospel  is  the  portion  of  all,  whose 
faith  is  real.  The  one  must  necessarily  depend  in  a 
great  measure  on  our  frames  and  feelings,  on  those 
fears  and  hopes,  which  are  too  often  as  unstable  as  wa- 
ter, and  frail  as  broken  reeds ;  the  other  is  founded  on 
that  righteousness  which  is  always  perfect,  on  the  effi- 
cacy of  that  blood  which  is  always  availing,  on  the 
finished  work  of  that  Redeemer  who  is  the  same  yes- 
terday, to-day,  and  for  ever. 

To  what  conclusion  then  are  we  to  come  ?  Are  we 
warranted  to  say  that  if  these  things  be  so,  we  may 
rest  satisfied  with  a  faith,  which  is  weak  and  waverings 


when  Walking  on  the  Sea.  543 

which  cures  us  of  no  follies,  and  roots  out  of  us  no 
sins  ;  which  enables  us  to  overcome  no  temptations 
and  to  endure  no  trials ;  which  leaves  us  the  slaves  of 
the  world,  and  the  obedient  servants  of  its  prince? 
God  forbid  !  To  be  satisfied  with  such  a  faith  as  this 
is  to  be  satisfied  with  that,  which  makes  the  devils 
tremble.  Indeed  to  be  content  with  any  fiiith,  how- 
ever strong  it  may  appear,  is  to  prove  that  we  are 
merely  deceiving  ourselves,  that  we  have  no  genuine 
faith  at  all.  True  faith  is  a  growing  grace  ;  and  he,  in 
whose  heart  it  has  once  been  planted,  will  never  be 
satisfied  unless  he  sees  that  it  is  growing ;  he  will 
never  think  that  he  can  have  enough  of  it,  but  will  be 
ever  crying,  "  Lord,  increase  my  faith."  Instead  of 
being  reconciled  to  his  unbelief  by  the  history  before 
us,  he  will  see  how  much  he  has  injured  himself  by  it, 
and  will  leave  this  house  of  prayer  mourning  over  it, 
and  condemning  himself  on  account  of  it.  The  words 
of  his  Lord  will  be  yet  sounding  in  his  ears,  "  Where- 
fore dost  thou  doubt?"  and  he,  who  follows  him  to 
his  closet,  will  hear  him  praying  there,  that  he  may  be 
enabled  this  day  cast  out  of  his  heart  the  fears,  which 
are  depressing  and  defiling  it ;  will  see  him  striving  to 
bring  forth  those  enemies  of  his  soul,  and  to  slay  them 
at  his  Saviour's  cross. 

From  this  hasty  consideration  of  the  fear  of  Saint 
Peter,  it  is  evident  that  it  is  calculated  to  afford  in- 
struction to  all  of  us.  It  bids  the  self-confident  dis- 
trust themselves,  and  it  encourages  the  fearful  to  trust 
Christ.  It  calls  on  those,  who  are  strong  in  faith,  to 
give  God  the  glory  and  be  thankful ;  on  those,  who 
are  weak  in  faith,  to  take  to  themselves  the  shame  and 
be  humble.  And  what  is  its  language  to  you,  who  are 
strangers  to  heart-felt  faith  ?    Not  that,  which  you  are 


544  The  Fear  of  Peter,  &c. 

anxious  to  make  it  speak.  It  does  not  tell  you  that  you 
may  live  a  prayerless  and  unchristian  life,  and  yet  be 
real  believers  in  Jesus  and  be  eventually  saved  by  him. 
Far  from  it.  It  shows  you  a  man,  uho  had  forsaken  all 
he  possessed  for  Christ ;  so  ardent  in  his  love  for  him, 
that  he  was  willing  to  commit  himself  to  a  raging  sea 
in  order  to  be  with  him ;  and  yet  so  submissive  in  his 
zeal,  as  to  wait  for  his  permission  before  he  ventured  to 
approach  him  : — it  shows  you  this  man  trembling  on 
the  waves,  but  still  in  the  midst  of  his  fear  manifesting 
his  high  sense  of  the  Redeemer's  greatness,  and  praying 
for  his  aid  ;  and  while  you  are  pitying  his  mom.entary 
weakness,  and  admiring  his  courage,  his  love,  his  obe- 
dience, and  his  confidence,  it  represents  the  Saviour  as 
giving  him  a  reproof,  passing  over  in  silence  all  that 
has  excited  your  admiration,  and  censuring  that  very 
faith,  which  appears  to  you  so  extraordinary,  as  little. 
How  then  can  you  force  from  such  a  Scripture  as  this 
any  thing  like  encouragement?  You  have  sacrificed 
nothing  for  Christ ;  you  have  far  less  love  for  him  than 
you  have  for  your  vanities  and  follies ;  you  have  no 
desire  to  be  with  him  ;  you  live  for  weeks  and  months 
together  without  ever  calling  in  earnest  upon  his  name  ; 
and  yet  because  Peter  had  infirmities,  you  imagine  them 
recorded  to  comfort  you,  and  deem  yourselves  safe  in 
the  midst  of  your  sins.  Where  among  the  people  you 
revile  shall  we  find  folly,  fanaticism,  and  licentiousness, 
like  this?  Brethren,  the  language  of  the  text  to  you  is 
not  that  of  consolation.  It  says  to  you,  and  may  God 
give  you  an  ear  to  listen  to  its  voice,  *'  He  that  be- 
lieveth  not  shall  be  condemned.  From  him,  that  hath 
not,  shall  be  taken  away,  even  that,  which  he  seemeth 
to  have„" 


SERMON  XXXVI- 


THE  CHRISTIAN  WAITING  FOR  HIS  DE 
LIVERER. 


1   THESSALONIANS   1.   10. 

.4tid  to  ivait  for  his  Son  from  heaven,  whom  he  raised  from  the  dead, 
even  Jesus,  vjhich  delivered  us  from  the  lurath  to  come. 


A  HE  sweetest  and  most  encouraging  subject,  on 
which  a  dying  sinner  can  fix  his  thoughts,  is  the  over- 
flowing mercy  of  his  offended  God.  The  sinner  how- 
ever, who  has  any  saving  interest  in  this  mercy,,  will  be 
often  thinking  of  the  awful  justice  of  the  Being,  from 
whom  he  has  received  it,  and  the  fearfulness  of  that 
wrath,  from  which  it  has  rescued  him.  Indeed  no  one 
can  think  aright  of  the  divine  mercy,  who  has  not  ade- 
quate conceptions  of  the  divine  justice;  nor  siiall  we 
ever  value  the  blessings  of  salvation,  till  we  have 
learned  to  keep  alive  in  our  minds  a  deep  sense  of  the 
terrors  of  condemnation.  Thus,  in  the  passage  before 
us,  a  longing  after  the  coming  of  the  Saviour,  and  an 
expectation  of  heaven  are  connected  with  the  recollec- 
tion of  danger  escaped  and  wrath  incurred.  The  apostle 
knew  that  the  Thessalonians  were  delivered  from  this 
wrath  ;  their  conduct  left  him  no  room  to  doubt  it;  and 
yet  though  heaven  was  before  them,  he  still  reminds 
them  of  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  and  of  the  close  con- 
nection, which  once  existed  between  them  and  destruc- 
tion.   '*  They  show  of  us,"  says  he^,  *'  what  manner  of 

3  Z 


546  The  Christian  waiting 

entering  in  we  had  unto  you,  and  how  ye  turned  to 
God  from  idols  to  serve  the  living  and  true  God  ^  and 
to  wait  for  his  Son  from  heaven,  whom  he  raised  from 
the  dead,  even  Jesus,  which  delivered  us  from  the 
wrath  to  come." 

Now  the  subject,  to  which  these  words  direct  our 
attention,  is  peculiarly  important  and  solemn.  No  sub- 
ject can  be  more  so.  May  the  Holy  Spirit  give  us  a 
serious  and  prayerful  mind  while  we  are  meditating  on 
it,  and  enable  us  to  fix  our  wandering  thoughts  on  the 
concerns  of  our  immortal  souls  ! 

I.  Let  us  consider,  first,  the  wrath,  of  which  the 
apostle  here  speaks.  It  is  ''  wrath  to  come."  Now  this 
is  an  evil,  brethren,  which  some  of  us  dread  but  little, 
but  which  none  of  us  can  dread  too  much.  Poverty, 
pain,  sickness,  and  death,  will  not  bear  to  be  compared 
with  it,  and  as  for  annihilation,  the  total  destruction  of 
our  being,  the  evil  from  which  nature  mostishrinks,  it 
would  be  a  blessing  if  it  could  be  exchanged  for  it. 

1.  For  mark,  first,  from  whom  this  wrath  will  come. 
It  is  divine  wrath,  not  the  anger  of  a  creature,  whose 
power  is  limited,  and  whose  duration  is  finite,  but  the 
displeasure  of  one,  who  fills  heaven  and  earth  with  his 
power,  and  eternity  with  his  existence.  It  is  the  wrath 
of  that  fearful  God,  of  whom  his  servant  Job  says,  that 
"  he  moveth  the  mountains  of  the  earth,  and  overturneth 
them  in  his  anger  ;  that  "  he  shaketh  the  earth  out  of 
her  place,  and  the  pillars  thereof  tremble;"  that  "  he 
commandeth  the  sun,  and  it  riseth  not,  and  he  sealeth 
up  the  stars."  "  Who  then  can  stand  before  his  indig- 
nation ?  And  who  can  abide  in  the  fierceness  of  his 
anger?" 

2.  It  is  also  ujimingled  wrath,  judgment  without 
mercy,  justice  without  the  least  mixture  of  goodness. 


for  his  Deliverer.  547 

Here  the  most  sinful  have  some  mitigation  of  their  suf- 
ferings, and  the  most  miserable  some  intervals  of  rest; 
but  they,  who  suffer  in  eternity,  are  always  and  com- 
pletely wretched.  *'  They  shall  drink  of  the  wine  of  the 
wrath  of  God,  which  is  poured  out  without  mixture 
into  the  cup  of  his  indignation,  and  they  shall  be  tor- 
mented with  fire  and  brimstone ;  and  the  smoke  of 
their  torment  ascendeth  up  for  ever  and  ever ;  and  they 
have  no  rest  day  nor  night." 

3.  This  wrath  is,  further,  provoked  wrath.  It  was 
not  the  original  inheritance  of  man.  He,  who  made  us, 
loves  us ;  and  though  we  have  rebelled  against  him, 
he  loves  us  still,  for  to  him  belong  mercies  and  for- 
givenesses. We  are  trying  his  patience  to  the  very 
utmost  every  hour  we  live,  but  still  he  spares  us,  visits 
us  every  hour  with  goodness,  and  sends  us  in  his  gos- 
pel the  freest  and  most  gracious  offers  of  reconciliation. 
If  then  we  persevere  in  rejecting  these  offers,  the  wrath, 
which  will  fall  on  us,  will  not  only  come  from  a  God 
of  dreadful  majesty  and  power,  but  from  a  God,  whose 
patience  has  been  tired  and  worn  out  by  our  obstinate 
perseverance  in  rebellion ;  from  a  God  provoked,  not 
only  by  our  transgressions  against  his  law,  but  by  our 
pouring  contempt  on  his  mercy  ;  by  our  rejection  of 
a  salvation,  which  cost  him  the  blood  of  his  Son.  Hence 
it  is  called  "  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb,"  the  wrath  of 
abused  gentleness  and  exhausted  patience. 

4.  And  it  is  also  accumulated  wrath,  a  wrath  that 
we  have  inflamed  and  increased  by  every  act  of  sin, 
which  we  have  committed.  All  our  transgressions  pro- 
voke the  displeasure  of  God  against  us,  and  though 
we  go  on  year  after  year  without  feeling  the  effect  of 
it,  his  displeasure  still  exists,  and  unless  we  are  con- 
verted and  saved,  we  shall  receive  it  and  bear  it  alL 


548  The  Christian  waiting 

The  longer  we  live  then,  and  the  more  daringly  we  sin 
against  heaven,  the  more  dreadful  will  be  our  doom 
in  our  latter  end.  Our  daily  guilt  is  increasing  our 
future  judgment.  Every  unclean  thought  we  indulge, 
every  idle  word  we  utter,  every  transgression  we  fall 
intO;  and  every  duty  we  neglect,  has  its  own  punish- 
ment connected  with  it,  and  will  aggravate  our  misery 
in  eternity.  "  The  Lord  revengeth,"  says  the  prophet 
Nahum,  "  and  is  furious.  The  Lord  will  take  vengeance 
on  his  adversaries,  and  reserveth  wrath  for  his  enemies." 
"  After  thy  hardness  and  impenitent  heart,"  says  Saint 
Paul,  "  thou  treasurest  up  unto  thyself  wrath  against 
the  day  of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  the  righteous  judg- 
ment of  God." 

5.  But  what  adds  so  greatly  to  the  fearfulness  of  this 
wrath,  is  the  consideration  that  it  is,  and  ever  will  be, 
^future  wrath.  It  is  wrath  to  come,  and  when  we  shall 
have  borne  it  millions  of  ages,  it  will  be  wrath  to  come 
still,  no  nearer  an  end  than  it  was  at  first  nor  easier  to  be 
borne.  It  is  eternal  wrath,  lasting  as  the  holiness  of  the 
Being  who  inflicts,  and  the  guilt  of  the  sinners  who 
endure  it.  The  world  will  not  believe  this  ;  but  there 
is  no  truth,  which  the  Bible  more  clearly  and  more 
solemnly  asserts.  It  tells  us  that  to  the  ungodly  is  re- 
served  the  blackness  of  darkness  for  ever ;  that  their 
destruction  is  everlasting ;  that  they  are  tormented  by 
a  worm  that  dieth  not,  and  by  a  fire  that  never  shall  be 
quenched.  Here  for  a  season  we  may  forget  or  disbe- 
lieve these  declarations,  but  the  very  moment,  in  which 
the  wrath  of  God  first  bursts  on  us,  we  shall  know  it 
to  be  eternal ;  all  the  sinkings  and  anguish  of  despair 
will  accompany  it,  and  dreadfully  increase  its  weight. 

6.  But  who  are  the  people  that  are  liable  to  this 
wrath  ?  Alas,  brethren,  it  is  the  very  wrath,  which  ive 


for  his  Deliverer.  549 

have  all  incurred;  the  very  condemnation, 'that  is  come 
upon  all  men,  upon  all  the  fallen  children  of  fallen 
Adam.  The  first  act  of  sin  we  ever  committed  made 
it  our  portion ;  yea,  we  brought  into  the  world  with 
us  a  depraved  nature,  the  seeds  of  those  dispositions 
and  desires,  with  which  the  curse  of  God  is  ever  con- 
nected. Hence  we  are  said  in  the  Scriptures  to  be  *'  by 
nature  the  children  of  wrath  ;"  and  our  church  speaks 
the  same  language.  It  deems  the  truth  so  important, 
so  necessary  to  be  known,  that  even  in  our  childhood 
it  taught  us  to  regard  ourselves  as  being  by  nature  born 
in  sin,  and  consequently  the  heirs  of  wrath. 

II.  Is  there  then  no  way  of  escape  from  the  wrath 
to  come  ?  Blessed  be  God,  there  is.  The  text  speaks 
of  some,  who  have  actually  escaped  from  it,  and  leads 
us  to  consider,  secondly,  the  deliverance  which  they 
have  obtained. 

1.  Now  this  is  an  wwe/d-^ery^f/ deliverance.  It  is  true 
that  they,  who  have  received  it  are  a  people,  who  have 
turned  from  idols  to  serve  the  living  and  true  God  ; 
but  what  led  them  to  choose  his  service  ?  No  natural 
love  that  they  had  for  it,  for  they  were  as  far  gone  from 
original  righteousness  as  any  of  their  race.  It  was  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  turned  them ;  the 
free  and  distinguishing  grace  of  the  very  God,  whom 
they  had  long  braved  and  hated.  And  what  has  been 
their  conduct  since  ?  They  have  been  less  unholy  than 
they  once  were,  less  desperately  wicked  than  many  of 
their  brethren,  but  not  a  day,  not  an  hour  has  passed, 
in  which  they  have  not  provoked  the  Lord  to  anger, 
and  again  merited  the  wrath  they  had  escaped.  They 
no  more  deserve  deliverance  than  that  man  deserves  it, 
who  receives  a  pardon  in  the  very  midst  of  his  crimes, 
and  then  day  by  day  sins  against  the  sovereign  that 
spared  him. 


550  The  Christian  waiting 

2.  But  though  it  be  undeserved,  it  is  a  complete  de- 
liverance. Some  degree  of  displeasure  indeed.  God  will 
ever  manifest  against  iniquity,  and  even  his  own  chil- 
dren cannot  forsake  his  law,  without  feeling  the  effects 
of  his  anger.  The  holiness  of  his  nature,  his  office  as 
the  great  Govenor  of  the  world,  require  him  to  visit 
their  transgression  with  the  rod,  and  their  iniquities 
with  stripes.  Hence  we  see  them  sharing  in  all.  or  at 
least  in  most,  of  the  calamities  of  this  W/orld  of  sorrow, 
and  often  bearing  a  double  portion  of  its  woes.  But  as 
for  the  wrath  to  come,  it  can  never  touch  them.  They 
are  as  fully,  as  perfectly,  delivered  from  it,  as  though 
it  had  ceastd  to  burn,  or  they  had  ceased  to  deserve 
it.  It  is  not  mitigated  merely  or  withheld  ;  as  far  as 
they  are  concerned,  it  is  destroyed,  utterly  extinct. 

3.  Hence  their  deliverance  from  it  is  an  eternal  de- 
liverance, not  the  consequence  of  a  pardon,  which  some 
fresh  act  of  transgression  may  revoke  ;  not  the  removal 
to  a  distance  of  an  evil,  which  some  change  in  their 
character  may  again  bring  near  :  it  is  an  eternal  salva- 
tion, a  final  separation  between  them  and  all  possibility 
of  condemnation. 

Now  this  is  more  than  we  are  warranted  to  say  of 
any  other  creature  in  the  universe.  The  angels,  who 
are  now  rejoicing  in  heaven,  may,  for  aught  we  know 
to  the  contrary,  be  liable  to  fall  into  the  same  sin,  into 
which  their  brethren  fell,  and  inherit  the  same  destruc- 
tion. Their  happiness  depends  on  their  obedience  ;  but 
the  happiness  of  the  redeemed  sinners  of  mankind  rests 
on  a  much  surer  foundation,  on  a  more  solid  basis. 
The  promise  of  Jehovah  insures  its  everlasting  con- 
tinuance. Not  that  he  has  promised  to  preserve  them 
in  his  kingdom,  though  they  rebel  against  him  there  ;  but 
he  has  promised  that  they  shall  not  rebel  against  him  ; 


for  his  Delive7'er.  551 

that  age  after  age  shall  roll  away,  and  their  hearts  con- 
tinue pure  as  the  temple  they  inhabit,  and  their  peace 
as  undisturbed  as  his  own  ;  yea,  that  they  shall  con- 
tinue for  ever  increasing  in  holiness  and  glory,  and 
growing  in  a  resemblance  to  himself. 

III.  But  how  has  this  great  salvation  been  obtained  ? 
By  whom  has  this  undeserved,  complete,  and  eternal 
deliverance  been   eflected?    The  apostle  answers  the 
question,  and  points  out  to  us,  thirdly,  the  author  of 
that  deliverance,  of  which  he  speaks. 

It  is  certain  that  man  cannot  be  his  own  deliverer. 
Much  as  he  struggles  against  the  natural  evils  that  be- 
set him,  and  much  as  he  has  called  forth  the  powers 
of  his  body  and  mind  in  order  to  avert  or  mitigate 
them,  misery  still  reigns  over  the  world,  sickness  still 
afflicts,  and  death  still  desolates  it.  We  cannot  banih^h 
them.  And  what  power  have  we  over  those  mental, 
those  spiritual  evils,  which  so  often  rack  the  human 
breast?  Who  can  minister  to  a  mind  diseased?  Who 
can  assuage  the  torment  of  a  wounded  spirit,  or  blunt 
the  stings  of  an  accusing  conscience  ?  Not  one.  And 
yet  all  these  present  evils  are  no  more  to  be  compared 
with  the  wrath  to  come,  than  the  breath  of  summer 
with  a  whirlwind.  The  inference  then  is  plain,  no  man 
can  be  tlie  author  of  his  own  deliverance.  None  of  the 
sons  of  men  can  by  any  means  redeem  his  brother,  nor 
give  to  God  a  ransom  for  him. 

Neither  can  the  angels,  who  excel  in  strength,  help 
us  here.  They  might  have  pitied  us  in  our  lost  estate, 
but  though  sinless  and  happy,  they  were,  like  our- 
selves, the  created  servants  of  Jehovah,  and  had  no 
power  to  satisfy  the  claims  of  his  broken  law,  or  to 
stay  his  uplifted  arm.  But  at  length  a  deliverer  came. 
The  eternal  Son,  the  sharer  of  the  Father's  own  om 


552  The  Christian  waiting 

nipotence,  proposed  himself  as  the  Mediator  between 
heaven  and  earth,  and  arrested  the  sword  of  justice. 
He  averted  the  stroke  from  his  guihy  people,  and  re- 
ceived it  on  his  own  guiltless  head.  He  bare  their 
sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree,  and  drank  there,  to 
the  very  dregs,  that  cup  of  vv^rath,  which  had  been  pre- 
pared for  them.  There  he  magnified  and  made  honoura- 
ble that  law,  which  they  had  broken  ;  and  constrained 
a  wondering  universe  to  adore  the  awful  justice  of  Je- 
hovah, even  while  his  mercy  saved  a  race  of  rebels. 
And  now,  in  consequence  of  his  obedience  unto  death, 
all  that  believe  in  him  are  justified  from  all  things; 
their  sins  are  pardoned  ;  all  their  liability  to  punishment 
is  done  away  ;  they  pass  from  death  unto  life  ;  the 
cliildren  of  wrath  become  the  children  of  grace,  the 
sons  of  God,  and  the  heirs  of  salvation. 

To  assure  them  of  the  certainty  of  their  deliverance, 
God  raised  his  Son  from  the  grave,  whither  he  had 
laid  hiniself.  He  exalted  him  to  his  own  right  hand  in 
glory,  and  there  he  sits  and  reigns  a  Prince  and  a  Sa- 
viour, interceding  for  his  beloved  people,  calling  them 
out  one  by  one  and  separating  them  from  an  ungodly 
world,  sanctifying  their  hearts,  instructing  them  in 
heavenly  wisdom,  comforting  them  in  all  their  tribula- 
tions, sharing  all  their  sorrows  and  joys,  and  making 
them  meet  for  their  eternal  inheritance.  By  his  death 
he  purchased  heaven  for  them,  and  by  his  life  he  pre- 
pares them  for  it,  and  secures  to  them  its  happiness. 
"  God  commendeth  his  love  towards  us,"  says  the 
apostle,  ^'  in  that  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ 
died  for  us.  Much  more  then,  being  now  justified  by 
his  blood,  we  shall  be  saved  from  wrath  through  him ; 
for  if,  when  we  were  enemies,  we  were  reconciled  to 
God  by  the  death  of  his  Son,  much  more,  being  recon- 
ciled, we  shall  be  saved  through  his  life.  "^ 


for  his  Deliverer.  55S 

IV.  A  deliverance  from  an  evil  thus  great,  virought 
out  by  a  Being  thus  exalted,  and  in  a  manner  thus  ex- 
traordinary, must  necessarily  make  some  impression  on 
the  minds  of  those,  who  are  the  partakers  of  it.  Hence 
the  apostle  describes  in  the  text  the  effect,  which  the 
deliverance  they  have  received  produces  in  the  people  of 
God.  "  They  wait  for  his  Son  from  heaven." 

1.  Now  this  expression  implies  that  they  have  a  firm 
belief  in  his  second  coming.  While  some  are  doubting 
and  fearing,  and  others  profanely  asking,  ^*  Where  is 
the  promise  of  his  coming  ?"  they  entertain  no  more 
doubt  of  the  certainty  of  his  second  coming,  than  they 
do  of  the  reality  of  his  first.  They  know  that  their  Re- 
deemer liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day 
upon  the  earth  ;  and  by  means  of  that  faith,  which  con- 
templates the  future  as  actually  present,  they  lift  up 
their  eyes  to  heaven,  and  behold  him,  whom  their  soul 
loveth,  clothing  himself  with  his  glory,  marshalling  his 
angels,  bowing  the  heavens,  and  travelling  down. 

2.  They  habitually  endeavour  also  to  be  prepared  for 
his  coming.,  to  be  ready  to  meet  him  in  the  air,  to  be 
ready  to  stand  at  his  judgment-seat,  to  be  found  meet 
to  be  partakers  of  his  joy.  And  with  such  a  work  as 
this  on  their  hands,  can  they  sleep  as  do  others  ?  Can 
they  plunge  themselves  into  the  pleasures  and  cares  of 
the  world,  and  live  as  though  death  were  a  fable,  judg- 
ment a  jest,  and  eternity  a  dream  ?  Impossible.  They 
prepare  to  meet  their  God.  Seeing  that  they  look  for 
such  things,  they  are  diligent  that  they  may  be  found 
of  him  in  peace  without  spot  and  blameless.  They  live 
as  men,  who  know  that  there  is  wrath  to  be  escaped 
and  mercy  to  be  won  ;  that  they  have  guilty  souls  to  be 
saved  and  impure  hearts  to  be  cleansed ;  that  death  and 

4  A 


.554  The  Christian  ivaiting 

judgment  are  before  them,  and  that  in  another  hour 
eternity  may  be  here. 

3.  The  language  of  the  text  implies,  further,  that 
they  earnest  I u  desire  the  coming  of  their 'Lord.  They 
love  him,  and  they  consequently  long  to  see  him  and 
be  with  him.  Instead  of  shrinking  from  the  prospect  of 
his  advent,  they  look  forward  to  it  as  the  time,  when  all 
their  trials  will  be  ended,  all  the  sufferings  of  their  fel- 
low Christians  brought  to  an  end,  all  the  reproach  of 
their  Master  done  away,  and  all  his  enemies  destroyed. 
Hence  they  are  said  to  be  looking  for  and  hastening 
unto  the  coming  of  the  day  of  God ;  not  that  they  can 
hasten  it  one  hour,  but  their  desire  of  its  approach  is  so 
ardent,  that  they  are  often  anticipating  it,  and  longing 
to  bring  it  near. 

4.  But  their  desire  is  free  from  any  miixture  of  impa- 
tience, at  least  they  wish  it  to  be  so;  for  they  patiently 
wait  for  the  coming  of  their  Lord.  Weaned  from  the 
■world,  but  not  discontented  under  its  troubles  nor 
weary  of  its  duties,  they  submit  themselves  to  the  will 
of  Christ.  Longing  to  depart  and  to  be  with  him,  they 
yet  leave  both  the  time  and  the  manner  of  their  depar- 
ture to  his  wisdom.  They  rejoice  in  hope,  and  are 
therefore  patient  in  tribulation.  They  know  that  their 
Deliverer  will  eventually  appear  unto  their  complete 
salvation,  and  they  know  too  that  the  salvation,  which 
he  will  bring  with  him  when  he  comes,  will  more  than 
recompense  them  for  all  their  light  afflictions ;  that  the 
longer  the  wheels  of  his  chariot  are  delayed  in  their 
coming,  so  much  the  more  glorious  will  be  their  own 
deliverance,  and  so  much  the  more  splendid  the  triumph 
of  their  Lord. 

This  then  is  the  effect,  which  deliverance  from  the 
wrath  to  come  produces  in  the  minds  of  those,  v/ho  are 


for  his  Deliverer.  555 

really  delivered  from  it.  It  leads  them  to  wait  for  the 
risen  Jesus  from  heaven ;  to  believe  in,  to  prepare  for, 
to  desire,  and  to  wait  for  his  second  coming.  Hence 
the  text  before  us  may  be  applied,  first,  to  those  among 
uSf  who  are  anxious  to  know  whether  they  are  yet  deli- 
vered from  future  wrath.  You  believe  perhaps  that  this 
wrath  will  assuredly  come,  and  with  fear  and  trembling 
you  have  sought  salvation  from  it ;  but  you  know  not 
whether  you  have  yet  attained  it,  and  are  still  doubtful 
as  to  your  present  state  and  your  latter  end.  Now  the 
words  before  us  plainly  point  out  the  means  of  ascer- 
taining this  momentous  point.  They  call  upon  you  to 
enquire  from  what  source  you  have  expected  delive- 
rance ;  whether  you  have  been  striving  to  work  it  out 
by  your  own  prayers,  and  resolutions,  and  righteous- 
ness, or  whether,  under  a  sense  of  your  utter  helpless- 
ness, you  have  fled  for  refuge  to  the  Son  of  God. 
What  effect  has  the  salvation  you  have  been  seeking 
produced  in  you  ?  It  turned  the  Thessalonians  from 
the  service  of  idols  to  the  service  of  God,  and  caused 
them  to  prepare  for  the  coming  of  Christ  to  be  their 
Judge ;  what  idols  and  vanities  then  have  you  re- 
nounced ?  What  sacrifices  have  you  made,  and  are 
daily  making  for  God  ?  What  change  has  taken  place 
in  your  principles  and  conduct?  Are  you  waiting  for 
Christ  ?  Do  you  really  believe  that  you  must  stand  be- 
fore him  ?  And  are  you  acting  on  this  belief,  preparing 
to  stand  before  him  and  to  take  your  trial  for  eternity^ 
What,  if  this  very  day  the  trumpet  should  sound,  and 
the  dead  should  be  raised  ?  What,  if  the  Son  of  man 
should  this  very  hour  come  in  his  glory  ?  In  what  state 
would  he  find  you  ?  With  your  loins  girded,  and  your 
lamps  burning,  and  your  hearts  leaping  for  joy  at  his 
approach  ;  or  careless  and  indifferent  about  him,  living 


556  The  Christian  waiting 

as  though  you  never  expected  him  to  come,  and  sur- 
prised and  confounded  at  his  appearance  ?  Put  such 
questions  as  these  to  yourselves,  brethren,  and  strive 
from  them  to  ascertain  your  condition  and  prospects. 
Be  determined  to  discover  the  truth.  To  be  in  a  state 
of  doubt  whether  we  are  the  children  of  wrath  or  the 
children  of  grace  ;  to  be  standing  on  the  borders  of 
eternity,  and  to  be  unable  to  tell  whether  the  glories  of 
heaven,  or  the  pains  of  hell  may  to-morrow  be  our  por- 
tion— if  we  are  indeed  Christians,  this  uncertainty  can- 
not patiently  be  borne.  In  the  midst  of  all  the  comforts, 
which  the  world  can  afford,  never  shall  we  know  one 
moment's  peace  till  we  have  some  ground  to  regard 
ourselves  as  pardoned  and  saved. 

But  there  are  others  among  usj  who  are  undoubtedly 
neither  ivaiting  for  the  coming  of  Christ  nor  seeking  de- 
liverance from  his  wrath.  These  things  have  a  place  in 
their  creed  perhaps,  and  they  think  that  they  really  be- 
lieve them ;  but  they  do  not  act  as  though  they  consi- 
dered them  realities.  The  whole  course  of  their  con- 
duct is  in  direct  opposition  to  such  a  supposition.  Now 
whence  arises  this  inconsistency?  It  arises,  brethren, 
from  secret  unbelief.  You  have  listened  to  the  sugges- 
tions of  an  evil  heart  and  an  evil  world,  till  you  have 
learned  to  hope  that  the  Bible  does  not  speak  the  truth 
concerning  the  purposes  of  God  ;  and,  relying  on  its 
falsehood,  you  are  willing  to  run  some  risk,  and  to 
make  light  of  the  threatenings  it  contains.  Nay,  there 
are  some  of  you  who  are  conscious  of  your  unbelief, 
and  openly  avow  it.  You  say  that  God  is  too  merciful 
to  execute  the  denunciations  of  his  word  ;  that  they  are 
designed  merely  to  alarm  us,  and  not  to  be  acted  on ; 
that  they  could  not  be  acted  on  without  impeaching  the 
character  of  the  God  of  love.  Then  what  a  riddle  is  the 


for  his  Deliverer.  ^o^ 

world  we  are  living  on  ?  While  you  are  suspecting  the 
veracity  of  God,  proudly  opposing  your  reasonings  to 
his  declarations,  and  denying  the  awful  justice  of  his 
nature,  thou'iands  of  your  fellow  creatures  are  groaning 
under  his  vengeance,  are  bovv^ed  down  with  misery, 
writhing  with  pain,  and  struggling  with  the  pangs  of 
death.  Disorder  and  suffering  are  every  where  reigning 
around  you,  and  beneath  your  feet  are  the  ashes  of  the 
dead.  Now  what  do  these  things  prove  ?  Either  that 
there  is  no  God  who  judgeth  the  earth,  or  that  he  is  a 
God  of  the  most  fearful  holiness.  At  any  rate,  they 
prove  that  the  suggestions  of  your  unbelieving  hearts 
are  contrary  not  only  to  the  language  of  the  Bible,  but 
to  matter  of  fact.  The  miseries  we  behold  and  endure, 
cannot  be  reconciled  with  the  supposition  that  the 
threatenings  of  God  will  not  be  executed.  On  the  con- 
trary, they  are  the  forerunners  of  the  wrath  to  come; 
the  distant  thunders,  which  warn  you  of  the  rising 
storm.  They  tell  you  that  there  is  a  God,  who  sees 
and  marks  your  transgressions ;  that  vengeance  be- 
longeth  to  him  ;  that  the  day  of  vengeance  is  already  in 
his  heart;  that  you  must  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come, 
or  behold  its  terrors  and  feel  its  anguish. 

The  text  may  be  applied  also  to  those^  who  are  anx- 
iously desiring  deliverance  from  the  wrath  to  come.  You 
believe  that  this  wrath  is  actually  coming,  and  that, 
when  it  comes  it  will  be  as  righteous  as  it  is  fearful. 
Instead  of  cavilling  at  the  law  of  God  as  too  strict,  and 
at  his  justice  as  too  severe,  you  blame  only  your  own 
folly,  which  has  transgressed  the  one,  and  your  own 
desperate  wickedness,  which  has  incensed  the  other. 
While  you  tremble  at  the  prospect  of  destruction,  you 
are  persuaded  that  all  its  miseries  are  only  the  merited 
rewards  of  your  iniquities.    Now,  brethren,  to  such  as 


558  The  Christian  waiting 

you  the  words  before  us  are  calculated  to  afford  encou- 
ragement. They  intimate  indeed,  that  you  have  no 
power  to  deliver  yourselves  from  vengeance,  but  they 
tell  you  also  that  the  very  God,  whom  you  have  of- 
fended, has  raised  up  a  deliverer  for  you,  and  no  less 
a  deliverer  than  his  own  eternal  !Son,  the  partaker  of 
his  greatness  and  his  power,  the  partaker  also  of  his 
unsearchable  mercy  and  incomprehensible  grace.  And 
now  how  are  you  to  act  ?  To  renounce  all  expectations 
of  obtaining  deliverance  from  any  other  quarter,  and 
to  seek  it  in  Christ  alone ;  to  make  a  particular  and 
heart-felt  application  to  him  for  salvation;  to  commit 
your  immortal  soul  into  his  hands,  believing  in  the  ef- 
ficacy of  his  blood  to  cleanse  it,  of  his  grace  to  sanctify 
it,  of  his  power  to  keep  it,  of  his  love  to  save  it.  And 
what  will  be  the  result  of  this  application  ?  A  free,  and 
full,  and  glorious  salvation  ;  a  complete  and  eternal  de- 
liverance from  all  the  consequences  of  all  your  sins, 
and  an  abundant  share  of  all  the  joys  that  are  found  in 
heaven. 

The  subject  before  us  addresses  itself  also  to  those^ 
who  have  already  obtained  deliverance  through  Christ 
from  the  wrath  to  come.  It  bids  them  look  back  to  the 
greatness  of  this  wrath,  and  the  wonderful  means,  by 
which  they  were  delivered  from  it;  and  while  their 
hearts  are  burning  with  joy  and  gratitude,  it  bids  them 
look  forward  to  the  glorious  appearing  of  the  great  God 
and  their  Saviour.  Scarcely  was  he  ascended  into  hea- 
ven, when  he  sent  down  his  angels  to  assure  us  that  he 
would  come  again  ;  and  a  little  afterwards,  he  himself 
spoke  to  us  from  his  throne  and  said,  "  Behold,  1  come 
quickly."  *'  Be  patient  therefore,  brethren,  unto  the 
coming  of  the  Lord.  Stablish  your  hearts,  for  the  com- 
ing of  tiic  Lord  draweth  nigh."  Your  sufferings  in  the 


for  his  Deliverer.  i559 

world,  wherein  he  has  left  you,  may  be  great,  but  he 
will  soon  come  to  put  an  end  to  them.  Your  days  may 
be  evil,  but  they  are  also  few.  The  road  you  are  tra- 
velling may  be  rugged,  the  journey  however  is  but 
short.  The  conflict  may  be  severe,  but  fight  manfully, 
for  the  battle  must  soon  be  over.  Ere  long  the  Lord 
Jesus  shall  be  revealed  from  heaven,  and  then  shall 
you  lift  up  your  heads  with  joy,  and  join  with  a  glow- 
ing heart  and  exulting  voice  in  the  shout  of  the  trium- 
phant church,  "  Lo,  this  is  our  God ;  we  have  waited 
for  him,  and  he  will  save  us.  This  is  the  Lord  ;  we 
have  waited  for  him  ;  we  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  his 
salvation." 


SERMON  XXXVir. 


THE  PRAYER  OF  DAVID  FOR  SELF 
KNOWLEDGE. 


PSALM  CXXxix.  23,  24. 

Search  me,  O  God,  a7id  know  my  heart;  try  me,  and  know  my 
thoughts  ;  and  scic, if  there  be  any  wicked  way  in  7ne :  and  lead  me  in 
the  way  everlasting: 


jS  one  but  a  man  of  heart-felt  piety  could  have  writ- 
ten this  prayer  ;  and  he  among  ourselves,  who  can  feel- 
ingly offer  it  up  to  heaven,  is  not  far  from  the  kingdom 
of  God.  He  is  at  least  in  earnest  in  his  religious  pro- 
fession, and  has  evidently  learnt,  what  thousands  who 
deem  themselves  Christians  never  have  learnt,  but  what 
we  all  must  learn  before  our  souls  can  be  saved,  the 
exceeding  deceitfulness  of  the  human  heart,  its  igno- 
rance, and  wickedness.  May  that  blessed  Spirit,  .who 
put  this  petition  into  David's  mind,  put  it  this  day  into 
our  minds  ;  teach  each  of  us  thus  to  pray,  and  keep  us 
thus  praying  all  the  days  of  our  life  ! 

L  The  first  inference  to  be  drawn  from  the  psalmist's 
prayer,  is  this  oft-repeated  but  most  important  truth — 
true  religion  has  its  seat  in  the  heart ;  it  is  an  inward 
thing,  a  principle  dwelling  in  the  mind,  and  ruling  over 
the  whole  inner  man. 

Now  this  is  a  truth,  which  we  are  all  willing  to  ac- 
knowledge— indeed  we  must  acknowledge  it  or  directly 
contradict  the  Bible — but  there  are  few  of  us,  who 
heartily  believe  it^  and  still  fewer,  who  are  aware  of  its 


The  Prayer  of  David,  &c.  561 

importance.  Many  of  us,  when  off  our  guard,  openly 
declare  that  it  matters  not  what  a  man  thinks  and  feels, 
so  that  his  life  is  right.  We  pray  indeed  at  church  that 
God  would  make  clean  our  hearts  within  us,  but  when 
we  are  afterwards  told  of  the  guilt  of  those  unclean, 
envious,  and  proud  thoughts,  which  so  often  defile  our 
hearts,  that  they  are  sinful  in  their  nature,  and  ruinous 
in  their  consequences,  what  do  we  say  ?  We  imme- 
diately show  that  we  meant  nothing  by  our  prayer,  and 
contend  that  there  can  be  no  sin  in  such  momentary, 
shadowy  things  as  thoughts ;  that  they  do  no  one  any 
harm,  and  that  none  but  an  enthusiast  would  attach  any 
importance  to  them. 

Others  among  us  perceive  the  absurdity  of  this  lan- 
guage, its  opposition  to  common  sense  as  well  as  to 
the  declarations  of  the  Scripture  ;  and  yet  we  arc  really 
adopting  the  same  principle,  or  one  very  much  like  it. 
If  we  do  not  make  religion  consist  in  a  few  decencies, 
and  a  round  of  forms,  we  represent  it  as  consisting  in 
that,  which  is  little  or  nothing  better,  the  reception  of 
a  favourite  creed,  the  upholding  of  a  system  of  doc- 
trines. These  men  have  acquired  perhaps  some  know- 
ledge of  the  gospel,  but  it  is  confined  to  their  under- 
standings only  ;  clear  perhaps,  as  far  as  it  goes,  as  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  but  cold  and  powerless  as  the  light  of 
the  mcon.  They  can  speculate,  they  can  dispute,  but 
this  is  all ;  they  cannot  feel,  they  cannot  love,  they  can- 
not pray.  They  are  controversialists,  but  they  are  not 
Christians. 

Others  again  seem  to  have  admitted  something  like 
religion  into  their  imaginations.  It  interests  them.  It 
elevates  their  minds  by  <he  grandeur  of  the  objects, 
which  it  brings  before  them,  and  delights  them  by  its 
loveliness.    But  then  these  very  men  can  lay  aside  the 

4  R 


56S  The  Vr ay er  of  David 

religious  book  they  have  been  reading,  or  leave  the 
religious  society  they  have  been  joining,  and  forget  all 
that  has  so  deeply  interested  them,  be  as  worldly- 
minded  as  though  eternity  were  a  dream,  and  as  eager 
in  the  pursuit  of  sensual  gratifications,  as  though  they 
could  satisfy  the  soul  and  last  for  ever. 

It  is  not  thus  however  with  a  man  when  his  religion 
is  real.  He  has  not  only  a  name  to  live,  but  he  lives. 
There  is  a  consistency  in  his  conduct.  The  gospel  does 
not  merely  touch,  it  pervades  him.  It  not  only  en- 
lightens his  understanding,  but  shines  into  his  heart ; 
not  only  delights  his  imaginatfon,  but  captivates  his 
affections.  Every  foculty  of  his  soul  is  called  into  ex- 
ercise by  the  things  of  eternity,  are  all  concerned  in 
his  religion,  and  all  regulated  by  it.  It  softens  and  pu- 
rifies his  heart ;  it  sets  his  aftections  on  things  above  ; 
makes  his  conscience  tender,  and  his  thoughts  humble, 
peaceful,  and  holy  ;  it  holds  the  reins  of  his  imagina- 
tion, and  while  it  prevents  it  from  dwelling  on  sinful 
objects,  it  lifts  it  up  to  high  and  heavenly  things.  In 
fact,  like  the  leaven  hidden  in  the  meal,  it  leavens  the 
whole  lump,  changes  the  whole  man,  and  makes  him  a 
new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus. 

II.  Hence  we  may  observe,  secondly,  that  the  truly 
rehs'ious  jnan  is  anxious  to  know  the  real  state  of  his 
heart.  The  anxiety  is  very  visible  in  the  prayer  before 
us.  David  had  evidently  been  searching  and  trying  his 
own  heart,  and  it  was  his  desire  to  be  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  it,  which  led  him  so  earnestly  to  beseech 
God  to  search  and  try  it  also.  But  the  heart,  brethren, 
is  a  book,  which  few  of  us  like  to  study.  It  is  one, 
which  requires  close  and  serious  thought  before  we 
can  read  it,  and  thought  is  one  of  those  things,  which 
our  careless  minds  most  hate.     Besides,  it  is  a  book, 


for  Self-knowledge ,  563 

which  teaches  many  humbling  and  mortifying  lessons, 
and  we  do  not  wish  to  be  mortified  and  humbled.  We 
love  the  falsehood  which  exalts,  better  than  we  love  the 
truth,  which  lays  us  low.  True  religion  however,  be- 
gins with  thoughtfulness.  It  turns  the  eyes  of  a  man 
inward  upon  himself.  It  causes  him  to  commune  witii 
his  own  heart,  and  to  make  diligent  search  into  his  own 
spirit.  True,  he  may  find  this  self-examination  painful 
and  humiliating,  but  this  makes  no  matter  to  him.  He 
feels  that  he  has  the  salvation  of  an  immortal  soul  at 
stake,  and  he  is  not  to  lose  that  soul  for  the  sake  of  be- 
ing kept  easy  in  his  follies,  and  proud  in  his  sins. 

Now  what  do  we  know,  brethren,  of  this  enquiring, 
this  self-searching  spirit  ?  What  have  we  felt  and  are 
still  feeling  of  it  ?  Are  we  heartily  convinced  that  God 
requireth  truth  in  the  inward  parts,  and  that  he  must 
dwell  and  reign  within  us,  before  he  will  deem  us  his 
people,  or  call  himself  our  God  ?  Under  this  convic- 
tion, are  we  longing  for  a  clean  heart  and  a  right  spirit, 
and  are  we  often  anxiously  enquiring  vi^hether  our 
hearts  are  clean  and  our  spirits  right  ?  Are  we  often 
bringing  our  faith,  our  hope,  our  love,  all  our  seeming 
graces,  to  the  touchstone  of  the  Bible  ?  What  kind  of 
books,  of  sermons,  of  friends,  do  we  most  love? 
Those,  which  lull  our  fears  to  rest,  and  make  us  well 
satisfied  with  ourselves ;  or  those  which  pierce  our 
consciences,  strip  us  of  our  fancied  righteousness, 
drive  us  from  all  our  refuges  of  lies,  and  send  us  to 
our  closets  dissatisfied,  humbled,  and  praying?  In  a 
word,  are  we  men  of  an  inward,  enquiring,  soul-sub- 
duing religion  ;  or  men,  who  are  content  with  the  form, 
and  care  nothing  about  the  power  of  godlmess  ? 

III.  If  we  can  bear  to  press  home  to  ourselves  such 
questions   as  these,  we  shall  be  able  to  go  a  step  far- 


564  The  Prayer  of  David 

ther.  We  shall  see  the  truth  of  a  third  observation  sug- 
gested to  us  by  the  text.  T/ie  sincere  Christian  is  not 
conscious  of  having  within  his  heart  any  one  cherished 
sin.  This  is  strongly  intimated  in  the  psalmist's  prayer. 
His  words  imply  that  if  there  were  any  wicked  way  in 
him,  any  evil  disposition  habitually  indulged,  he  could 
not  be  walking  in  the  way  everlasting.  Not  that  he 
meant  to  speak  of  himself,  or  any  other  man,  as  wholly- 
free  from  sinful  thoughts  and  desires,  for  on  other  oc- 
casions we  hear  him  confessing  that  there  was  much 
sin  within  him,  and  bitterly  lamenting  it.  But  it  is  one 
thing  to  have  iniquity  entering  the  breast,  and  another 
thing  to  harbour  it  there ;  it  is  one  thing  to  have  sin 
dwelling  in  the  members,  and  another  to  have  it  reign- 
ing in  the  heart.  Saint  Paul  felt  a  sinful  law  in  his 
members,  but  he  felt  it  rs  warring  against  the  law  of 
his  mind,  as  being  opposed  to  the  habitual  frame  of  his 
sou!,  to  that  holy  and  heavenly  principle,  which  made 
him  delight  in  the  law  of  God  after  the  inward  man, 
and  enabled  him  to  walk  not  after  the  flesh  but  after  the 
spirit. 

Every  Christian  also  feels  the  same  conflict,  the  same 
warfare  within.  Sin  tempts,  and  harasses,  and  some- 
times brings  him  into  captivity,  but  it  cannot  hold  him 
in  bondage ;  it  cannot  make  him  quietly  submit  to  its 
hated  laws.  It  overcomes  and  degrades  him  for  an 
hour,  but  we  soon  see  the  prisoner  struggling  with  his 
filthy  oppressor,  and  bursting  his  bonds.  Trampling 
his  lusts  underneath  his  feet,  we  hear  him  exclaim, 
"  I  thank  God,  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord." 

Again,  brethien,  let  us  turn  to  ourselves.  Are  we 
thus  overcoming  inward  sin?  Our  lives  may  be  blame- 
less, but  this  is  not  the  point.  Is  there  no  wicked  way 
^vithin  us,  in  our  hear;?,  in  our  thoughts?     Notwith- 


for  Self-knowledge.  565 

standing  all  our  remaining  corruptions,  can  we  say  with 
humble  confidence  that  there  is  not  one  sinful  disposi- 
tion, which  we  are  habitually  indulging  ;  not  one  evil 
temper,  which  we  are  suffering  to  reign  over  us  ?  If 
we  cannot  say  this,  our  profession  of  religion  is,  at  the 
best,  very  suspicious.  It  may  satisfy  the  world,  it  may 
satisfy  ourselves,  but  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  it  will 
not  satisfy  God ;  that  our  hearts  must  even  yet  be  re- 
newed ;  that  a  work  must  be  begun  there,  to  which  we 
are  at  present  entire  strangers,  or  that  our  souls  will  be 
lost.  Does  this  appear  to  any  of  us  a  hard  saying  ?  We 
say  not  these  things  of  ourselves,  for  the  Scripture 
says  the  same  also.  "  Whosoever  abideth  in  God,  sin- 
neth  not.  Whosoever  sinneth  hath  not  seen  him,  nei- 
ther known  him.  He,  that  committeth  sin,  is  of  the 
Devil.  Whosoever  is  born  of  God  doth  not  commit 
sin,  for  his  seed  remaineth  in  him ;  and  he  cannot  sin, 
because  he  is  born  of  Gcd."  To  what  conclusion  then 
does  this  plain  and  strong  language  bring  us?  With- 
out carrying  it  as  far  as  it  might  be  carried,  it  surely 
warrants  us  to  say,  that  no  man  is  justified  in  deeming 
himself  a  Christian  unless  when  he  is  exercising  holy 
dispositions,  or,  at  least,  mourning  over  the  want  of 
them.  He  may  be  a  Christian  at  other  times,  but,  let 
his  past  experience  have  been  what  it  may,  he  is  run- 
ning a  fearful  risk  in  considering  himself  as  such.  The 
station  he  should  take  is  the  very  lowest  he  can  find  at 
the  footstool  of  a  pardoning  Jesus,  and  the  language, 
which  becomes  him  there,  is  not  that  of  the  boaster, 
"I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are;"  but 
that  of  the  suppliant,  who  smote  on  his  breast  and  said, 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 

IV.  But  thouffh  the  text  intimates  that  the  Christian 
is  not  aware  of  having  any  sin  prevailing  within  him,  it 


566  The  Prayer  of  Bavid 

implies,  fourthly,  that  he  often  suspects  himself  of  some 
undetected  iniquity.  The  solicitude,  which  David  ex- 
presses for  divine  teaching,  proves  that  he  distrusted 
his  own  enquiries ;  that  he  found  them  ineffectual,  or  at 
best  not  altogether  satisfactory.  He  rejoiced  in  the  tes- 
timony of  his  conscience,  but  he  would  not  confide  in 
it.  He  was  conscious  of  the  integrity  of  his  heart,  but 
he  was  conscious  also  of  its  exceeding  deceitfulncss ; 
and  hence  he  manifests  no  proud  self-confidence,  but  a 
godly  jealousy  over  himself.  He  seems  to  say  here,  as 
he  says  in  another  place,  "  Who  can  understand  his 
errors?  Cleanse  thou  me  from  my  secret  faults." 

Now  mankind  in  general  have  none  of  this  self-dis- 
trust. They  are  well  satisfied  with  themselves,  and  ima- 
gine that  the  Almighty  is  well  satisfied  with  them  also. 
If  they  think  at  all  of  the  state  of  their  heart,  they  think 
of  it  with  little  concern,  and  examine  it  with  little  in- 
terest. Strangers  to  its  depraved  and  treacherous  na- 
ture, they  imagine  that  it  is  even  less  sinful  than  their  life, 
and  persuade  themselves  that  on  the  whole  they  have 
greater  cause  to  rejoice  in  its  goodness,  than  they  have 
to  lament  its  wickedness ;  that  their  inward  state  is 
better  than  their  outward  character,  their  motives  and 
intentions  better  than  their  actions.  At  any  rate,  they 
trust  that  they  cannot  have  been  deceiving  themselves 
all  their  life  long,  and  though  they  have  the  Bible  in 
their  hands,  and  every  page  of  it  utterly  condemns 
them,  they  are  determined  to  live  and  die  regarding 
themselves  as  very  good  Christians. 

The  real  disciples  of  Christ  however  are  men  of  an- 
other spirit.  They  are  backward  to  think  the  least  evil 
of  others,  but  ever  ready  to  think  much  evil  of  them- 
selves. They  suspect  themselves  when  no  one  else  sus- 
pects them,  and  are  often  tempted  to  deem  themselves 


for  Self-knowledge.  567 

accursed,  while  others  regard  them  as  peculiarly- 
blessed  by  their  God.  Look  at  the  disciples  in  their 
last  affecting  interview  with  their  beloved  Lord.  He 
tells  them  that  one  of  them  shall  betray  him,  and  in- 
stead of  every  man  looking  around  to  find  the  traitor  in 
his  brother,  he  seeks  him  in  himself.  *•  Tliey  were  ex- 
ceeding sorrowful,  and  began  every  one  of  them  to  say 
unto  him,  '  Lord  is  it  1?'  " 

The  truth  is  that  the  Christian  finds  it  exceedingly 
difficult  to  know  himself.  Many,  who  have  long  taken 
counsel  with  their  soul,  have  had  sorrow  in  their  heart 
daily,  for  they  have  remained  still  doubtful  of  their 
present  state,  and  perplexed  with  apprehensions  con- 
cerning their  future  safety.  They  have  either  come  to 
no  conclusion  at  all,  or  they  have  formed  a  wrong  one. 
This  difficulty  of  judging  our  state  does  not  arise  from 
any  obscurity  in  the  account,  which  the  Scriptures  have 
given  us  of  the  Christian,  for  his  character  is  traced 
there  in  the  broadest  and  plainest  terms,  and  is  easy  to 
be  understood  ;  but  it  is  by  no  means  so  easy  to  deter- 
mine whether  our  own  character  corresponds  with  it. 
We  see  something  in  ourselves  like  it,  but  we  see  a 
great  deal  more  very  unlike  it.  The  best  of  our  actions, 
the  brightest  of  our  graces,  the  most  holy  of  our  dis- 
positions, the  most  fervent  of  our  prayers,  and  the 
most  ardent  of  our  praises,  are  blended  with  so  much, 
which  is  evil,  that  we  despair  of  separating  the  one 
from  the  other,  and  are  often  ready  to  faint  with  dis- 
quietude and  fear.  How  then  shall  we  act  ?  The  prayer 
of  David  will  direct  us. 

V.  But  we  must  first  notice  another  truth  intimated 
in  it.  In  the  midst  of  his  perplexities,  the  sincere 
Christian  has  a  firm  and  lively  belief  that  God  knows 
his  heart.  Here  again  is  a  truth,  which  none  of  us  pro< 


568  The  Fraijev  of  David 

fess  to  doubt,  but  which  many  of  us  altogether  disbe- 
lieve. We  may  say  that  we  do  not  disbelieve  it,  that 
we  only  forget  it;  but  if  we  really  believed  it,  we 
should  not  forget  it.  It  is  too  solemn,  too  awful  a  truth 
to  be  habitually  forgotten.  The  dishonest  servant  never 
robs  his  master  before  his  eyes,  for  he  never  ceases  to 
remember  that  he  is  in  his  master's  presence ;  and  yet 
the  man,  who  stands  up  and  tells  us  that  he  believes 
that  God  sees  him,  will  rob  him  daily  and  hourly  to 
his  face  without  fear  or  shame.  Appeal  to  your  con- 
sciences, brethren.  If  you  really  believed  that  there  is 
a  God,  to  whom  all  hearts  are  open,  and  from  whom 
no  secrets  are  hid ;  if  you  were  heartily  persuaded  that 
he  is  every  moment  watching  your  thoughts,  remem- 
bering them,  and  about  to  bring  you  into  judgment  for 
ihem  all ;  could  you  have  ventured  to  cherish  in  your 
mind  many  of  the  thoughts,  which  you  have  quietly 
and  fearlessly  cherished  there  during  the  week  that  is 
passed  ?  Nay,  could  you  have  indulged  some  of  the 
thoughts,  which  you  have  indulged  this  very  day,  and 
perhaps  during  the  last  few  minutes  within  these  walls  ? 
You  could  not.  You  feel  that  you  could  not.  The 
very  idea  of  being  seen  by  God,  has  made  you  serious 
now  ;  and  it  would  have  long  ago  wrought  a  great  and 
abiding  change  within  you,  if  you  actually  believed  it. 
The  real  servant  of  God  does  believe  it,  and  acts  on 
his  belief.  Like  David,  he  knows  that  the  Lord 
searcheih  the  hearts,  and  understandeth  the  thoughts, 
and  compasscth  the  path,  and  is  acquainted  with  the 
ways  of  the  children  of  men ;  and,  like  David,  he  is 
willing  to  be  searched,  and  prays  to  be  tried  by  this 
heart- searching  God.  Instead  of  wishing  that  he  could 
escape  his  eye,  he  wishes  to  be,  if  possible,  more  closely 
observed  by  him,  and  offers  up  a  prayer,  which  many 


for  Self-knowledge.  569 

around  hitn  would  tremble  to  offer  up,  "  Search  me, 
O  God,  and  know  my  heart ;  try  me,  and  know  my 
thoughts ;  and  see  if  there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me  ; 
and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting." 

VI.  The  believer  therefore,  when  he  is  dissatisfied 
with  his  own  enquiries  into  the  state  of  his  soul,  is 
taught  by  this  prayer  that  he  must  apply  to  God  for 
self-knowledge  and  instruction.  It  does  not  imply  that 
the  omniscient  Jehovah  can  possibly  be  ignorant  of  his 
heart  and  thoughts,  but  it  bids  him  pray  that  God 
would  make  him  also  thoroughly  acquainted  with  them. 
It  tells  him  to  carry  his  difficulties  and  perplexities  to  a 
throne  of  grace,  and  to  wait  patiently  there  for  that  hea- 
venly wisdom,  which  will  remove  them  all.  The  wisest 
and  most  experienced  of  us  know  but  little  of  our- 
selves ;  but  he,  who  sits  upon  his  heavenly  throne, 
knows  us  well.  When  he  was  on  earth,  he  needed  not 
that  any  should  testify  of  man,  for  he  knew  what  was 
in  man ;  and  since  he  went  up  to  his  glory,  he  has  told 
us  that  he  searcheth  the  reins  and  hearts,  it  is  plain 
then  that  Christ  can  instruct  us ;  that  he  can  enable  us 
to  see  ourselves  in  our  true  light ;  that  if  we  are  encou- 
raging a  presumptuous  hope,  he  can  dash  it  to  pieces ; 
that  if  we  are  cast  down  with  unnecessary  fears,  he  can 
chase  them  away,  and  cause  us,  in  the  midst  of  our  in- 
firmities, to  see  ourselves  his  ransomed,  justified,  and 
accepted  children,  and  give  us  that  spirit  of  adoption, 
which  will  enable  us  to  cry,  ''  Abba,  Father."  That 
which  we  see  not,  he  can  teach  us.  He  can  make  us  to 
know  our  transgression  and  our  sin.  He  can  show  us 
wherein  we  are  right  in  our  judgment  of  ourselves,  and 
wherein  we  are  wrong ;  what  there  is  to  be  brought 
low  in  us,  and  what  to  be  raised  up  ;  what  we  must  en- 
deavour to  get  rid  of,  and  what  to  obtain.  Laying  open 

4C 


570  The  Prayer  of  David 

our  hearts,  he  can  discover  to  us  the  sin,  which  is  lurk- 
ing there,  and,  like  a  worm  at  the  root,  secretly  mar- 
ring our  comforts,  and  withering  our  graces ;  and, 
shining  on  the  work  of  his  own  hands,  he  can  make 
visible  to  us  the  walls  of  that  spiritual  temple,  which 
he  has  begun  to  raise  up  for  himself  in  our  souls. 

Are  we  then  willing  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  and 
to  be  thus  taught  of  him  ?  Then  we  may  be  assured 
that  he  will  thus  teach  us.  But  he  must  at  the  same 
time  be  taken  for  our  guide  as  well  as  for  our  in- 
structor. 

VII.  For  the  text  reminds  us,  lastly,  that  he,  who 
seeks  instruction  of  God,  must  be  xvilling  to  submit  him- 
self to  his  guidance.  When  David  prayed  for  self-know- 
ledge, he  did  it  with  a  practical  object  in  view,  and  with 
a  submissive  mind.  He  wished  to  knoAV  himself  better, 
that  he  might  walk  more  closely  with  God,  and  he  was 
ready  to  receive  this  knowledge  in  any  way,  in  which 
it  might  please  the  Lord  to  give  it  him.  "  Lead  me," 
says  he,  "  in  the  way  everlasting." 

He  prays  to  be  led,  and  the  prayer  proves  that  he  felt 
his  need  of  guidance,  and  was  willing  to  follow  the  Lord 
in  whatsoever  path,  or  through  whatsoever  scenes  he 
might  conduct  him.  We  often  pray  for  instruction, 
without  being  mindful  of  the  necessity  of  this  submis- 
sion. Our  supplications  are  sincere  and  earnest,  but  we 
know  not  what  we  ask.  .  We  forget  that  the  Saviour 
employs  various  methods  of  showing  his  children  their 
hearts.  We  expect  it  to  be  done  by  his  word  ;  but. 
while  we  are  reading  and  searching  it,  he  sends  us 
trouble,  and  makes  trouble  the  means  of  bringing  to 
light  our  sinfulness  and  weakness.  He  instructed  Israel 
his  people,  and  Jacob  the  lot  of  his  inheritance,  and 
how  ?  By  leading  him  about  for  forty  years  in  a  howl- 


for  Self-knoxvledge.'  57  i 

ing  wilderness.  Affliction,  brethren,  frequent  and 
severe  affliction,  is  the  school,  into  which  prayer  often 
brings  a  man,  and  in  which  he  first  learns  to  know 
himself,  and  to  know  his  God.  It  is  in  the  furnace,  that 
the  gold  is  proved,  and  distinguished  from  the  secret 
dross. 

But  the  path  of  tribulation  is  not  the  only  path, 
which  we  must  be  content  to  enter.  If  we  wish  our 
prayers  to  be  answered,  we  must  be  prepared  to  walk 
in  the  way  everlasting.  And  what  is  this  way  ?  It  is 
that  way  of  access  to  the  Father,  in  which  the  pa- 
triarchs and  prophets,  the  glorious  company  of  the 
apostles,  and  the  noble  army  of  martyrs,  drew  near  to 
him ;  the  way  of  reconciliation  through  the  blood  of 
his  Son.  It  is  that  highway,  which  is  called  in  the 
Scripture,  "The  way  of  holiness;"  the  way  of  good 
works,  which  God  hath  before  ordained  that  we  should 
walk  in  them.  To  expect  therefore  to  know  ourselves, 
while  we  refuse  to  know  Jesus  Christ  and  him  cruci- 
fied ;  to  expect  to  obtain  wisdom  and  experience, 
while  we  are  living  careless  and  worldly  lives ;  to  ex- 
pect to  know  our  election  of  God,  while  we  are  con- 
tent to  have  our  hearts  cold  towards  him,  and  are 
nearly  or  quite  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  is  to  seek 
the  flowers  of  summer  amidst  the  ice  of  winter,  to  look 
for  the  activity  of  life  and  health  in  the  chambers  of 
the  grave. 

This  then  appears  to  be  the  substance  of  the  in- 
struction afforded  us  in  the  text.  The  heart  is  the  seat 
of  all  real  religion.  The  truly  religious  man  therefore, 
is  anxious  to  know  the  state  of  his  heart ;  but  though, 
after  diligently  examining  himself,  he  is  not  conscious 
of  cherishing  within  him  any  known  sin,  yet  he  often 
suspects  that  some  beloved  iniquity  may  be  yet  lurk 


572  The  Prayer  of  David 

ing  undiscovered  in  his  breast.  Aware  of  his  inability 
to  detect  it,  but  firmly  persuaded  that  God  knows  all 
that  is  in  his  heart,  he  applies  to  him  for  self-know- 
ledge and  instruction,  with  a  desire  of  submitting  him- 
self entirely  to  his  guidance,  ready  to  welcome  any 
means  which  may  be  employed  to  teach  him,  and  will- 
ing to  walk  in  that  way,  which  has  led  multitudes  of 
the  ignorant,  lost,  and  guilty,  to  wisdom,  righteous- 
ness, and  peace.  Now  what  is  the  one  great  lesson, 
which  these  things  are  calculated  to  leave  impressed 
on  our  minds?  It  is  this — the  iiecessity  and  importance 
of  self-examination.  We  live  in  an  age  and  in  a  place, 
in  which  we  are  peculiarly  called  on  to  be  jealous  of 
ourselves.  The  reproach  of  the  cross  has  in  some  de- 
gree ceased  among  us,  and  the  consequence  is,  we  are 
surrounded  with  those,  who  profess  to  bear  it.  But 
the  flock  of  Christ  is  still  a  little  flock  ;  the  way  to  life 
is  as  narrow  as  ever,  the  gate  as  strait,  and  they  that 
go  in  thereat  are  still  few.  O  who  can  tell  whether  we 
are  among  these  few  ?  When  we  look  into  a  profess- 
ing world,  how  easy  is  it  to  be  a  Christian !  but  how 
diflEicult,  when  we  enter  our  closets  and  look  into  the 
word  of  God  !  Which  shall  in  the  end  prove  a  de- 
ceiver  cannot  be  doubtful.  God  will  be  true  and  will 
manifest  his  truth,  though  every  man  should  be  found 
a  liar.  What  matters  it  to  me  then,  that  1  think  my- 
self a  Christian  ?  I  am  not  to  be  my  own  judge.  What 
matters  it  to  me  that  my  neighbours  think  me  a  child 
of  God?  I  am  not  to  stand  at  their  judgment-seat. 
God  is  the  Judge  of  all,  and  he  will  be  my  Judge,  and 
will  try  me,  not  by  my  own  standard,  not  by  the  opi- 
nions of  the  world,  but  by  the  law  and  the  testimony, 
by  the  declarations  of  his  own  word.  Let  me  therefore 
search  my  heart,  and  try  my  thoughts  by  the  same 
rule  now,  by  which  I  shall  be  searched  and  tried  here- 


for  Self-knowledge,  573 

after.  And  what,  if  the  Bible  should  condemn  me  ? 
Let  me  not  shut  my  eyes  to  the  truth.  What,  if  it 
should  tell  me  that  I  must  part  with  my  beloved  sins, 
or  give  up  my  hope  of  glory  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  have 
iniquity  cast  out  in  this  world,  though  it  be  with  bit- 
terness and  tears,  than  to  have  it  torment  me  for  ever 
in  the  next  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  lose  a  lust,  than  to  lose 
a  soul?  to  give  up  the  pleasures  of  sin,  than  to  sacrifice 
the  joys  of  heaven  ?  Is  it  not  more  profitable  to  cut 
off  a  right  hand,  or  pluck  out  a  right  eye,  to  have  one 
of  our  members  perish,  than  to  have  the  whole  body 
cast  into  hell  ?  How  dreadful,  brethren,  is  the  thought 
— to  imagine  ourselves  Christians,  to  pass  for  Chris- 
tians in  the  world,  to  be  looking  forward  for  years  to 
the  glorious  world  above  us  as  our  home,  to  close  our 
eyes  in  peace  expecting  to  open  them  in  heaven,  and 
yet,  after  all,  to  lift  up  our  eyes  in  hell  being  in  tor^ 
ments  !  In  temporal  things  mistakes  may  sometimes 
be  rectified,  errors  may  be  retrieved,  but  this  error, 
this  mistake  never  !  To-day  indeed  is  a  day  of  salva- 
tion. He  who  has  long  deceived  himself  and  others, 
he  who  is  perplexed  with  doubts  and  fears,  he  who  till 
this  hour  never  had  a  serious  thought  about  his  soul, 
may  seek  mercy,  look  unto  Jesus,  and  find  it ;  to-mor 
row  this  day  of  mercy  may  end,  and  the  careless,  the 
self- deceiver,  and  the  hypocrite,  be  lost  for  ever.  Their 
hopes  may  be  blasted,  their  fears  realized,  their  uncon- 
cern exchanged  for  weeping,  and  wailing,  and  gnashing 
of  teeth.  *'  To-day  then,  while  it  is  called  to-day, 
harden  not  your  hearts.  Examine  yourselves  whether 
ye  be  in  the  faith,  prove  your  own  selves.  Let  us  search 
and  try  our  ways,  and  turn  again  to  the  Lord.  Let  us 
lift  up  our  heart  with  our  hands  unto  God  in  the  hea- 
vens, lest  fear  and  a  snare  come  upon  us,  desolation 
and  destruction." 


SERMON  XXXVIII. 


THE  WEDDING  GARMENT. 


ST.  MATTHEW  XXU.   1  i,  12,   13. 

ir/ien  the  kijig  came  in  to  see  the  guests,  he  saw  there  a  man  which 
had  not  on  a  wedding  garment;  and  he  saith  unto  Iiim,  "  Friend^ 
how  earnest  thou  in  hithtr,  not  having  a  wedding  garment  ?"  Jlnd 
he  was  sficcchless.  Then  said  the  king  to  the  servants,  "  Bind  him 
hand  and  foot,  and  take  him  away,  and  cast  him  into  outer  darkness  ; 
there  shall  be  weeinng  and  gnashing  of  teeth '^ 


.I.N  this  parable  the  gospel  of  Christ  is  spoken  of  as  a 
rich  feast,  prepared  for  the  needy,  and  open  to  all,  who 
are  willing  to  partake  of  its  proviiiioiis.  The  Jews,  to 
whom  the  tidings  of  this  feast  were  first  sent,  are  de- 
scribed as  rejecting  the  gracious  invitation,  while  the 
Gentiles  are  at  length  made  willing  to  accept  it ;  and 
from  among  their  starving  multitudes  the  wedding  is 
furnished  with  guests.  Among  these  guests  however, 
we  read  in  the  text  of  one,  who  appears  to  have  been 
regarded  as  an  intruder,  and  to  have  brought  Qn  him- 
self by  his  presence  among  them  shame  and  destruc- 
tion. "  When  the  king  came  in  to  see  the  guests,  he 
saw  there  a  man,  which  had  not  on  a  wedding  garment; 
and  he  saith  unto  him,  ^Friend,  how  earnest  thou  in 
hither,  not  have  a  wedding  garment?'  And  he  was 
speechless.  I'hen  said  the  king  to  the  servants,  '  Bind 
him  hand  and  foot,  and  take  him  away,  and  cast  him 
mto  outer  darkness  ;  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth.' " 


The  Wedding  Garment.  575 

That  we  may  rightly  understand  these  words,  let  us 
examine,  Jirstj  the  resemblance  between  this  man  and 
the  other  guests ;  secondly^  the  difference  between  him 
and  them ;  thirdly^  the  causes,  from  which  this  differ- 
ence proceeded  ;  and,  fourthly,  the  consequences,  to 
which  it  led. 

I.  The  points  of  resemblance  between  this  man  and 
the  other  guests  appear  to  have  been  three.  He  was  an 
invited  guest,  a  needy  guest,  an  expecting  guest.  He 
did  not  come  uncalled  to  the  feast,  for  the  same  invita- 
tion that  brought  the  others  from  the  highways  to  it, 
brought  him  there  also.  And  he  needed  its  provisions 
as  much  as  they  needed  them,  for  he  too  had  been 
taken  from  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  from 
among  the  houseless  and  poor.  He  seems  also  to  have 
expected  a  share  of  these  provisions,  as  well  as  his 
companions.  '  He  goes  with  them  into  the  king's 
house,  and  seats  himself  as  a  welcome  guest  at  the 
kinsr's  table. 

In  these  three  respects  also  all  of  us  resemble  each 
other.  JFe  have  all  been  invited  to  the  gospel  Jeast.  We 
have  all  heard  of  that  rich  provision  made  for  our  souls 
in  the  covenant  of  grace,  and  we  have  been  told  that 
there  is  not  a  sinner  breathing  on  the  earth,  who  may 
not  take  of  these  provisions  and  live — take  of  them 
freely  without  money  and  without  price,  and  live  a 
never-ending  life  of  safety  and  of  joy. 

And  are  we  not  all  equally  needy  ?  Our  souls  are  pe- 
rishing for  want  of  the  mercies  of  the  gospel,  and  must 
soon  perish  for  ever  if  they  do  not  receive  them.  What- 
ever difference  there  may  be  amongst  us  in  other  re- 
spects, here  there  is  none.  Providence  may  have  raised 
this  or  that  man  above  the  level  of  his  brethren ;  grace 
may  have  made  some  of  us  children  of  mercy,  while 


576  The  Wedding  Garment. 

others  are  still  the  children  of  wrath ;  but  neither  pro- 
vidence nor  grace  has  made  the  slightest  difference  as 
to  our  common  poverty,  our  spiritual  need.  We  are  all 
guilty,  and  must  be  pardoned  ;  we  are  all  ungodly,  and 
must  be  sanctified ;  we  are  all  helpless,  and  must  be 
strengthened  ;  we  are  all  lost  and  must  be  saved.  Old 
and  young,  rich  and  poor,  sinner  and  saint,  all  we  like 
sheep  have  gone  astray,  we  are  all  miserable  offenders, 
there  is  no  health  in  any  one  of  us. 

We  are  too,  for  the  greater  part,  expecting^  like  tins 
man  to  share  in  the  bounties  of  the  Jeast,  to  which  xve 
have  been  invited.  Careless  as  we  are  about  religion  it- 
self, and  much  perhaps  as  we  dislike  its  spirituality  and 
purity,  we  still  hope  that  its  rewards  will  ultimately  be 
ours.  We  know  that  we  are  not  such  Christians  as  the 
saints  of  old  were,  or  as  some  around  us  appear  to  be. 
We  know  that  we  have  not  that  deep  and  abiding  con- 
trition, that  spirit  of  prayer,  that  new  and  holy  heart, 
that  deadness  to  the  world,  that  spirituality  of  mind, 
that  earnestness  and  decision  in  religion,  which  the  Bi- 
ble requires  ;  but  though  we  may  sometimes  have  mis- 
givings and  fears  on  account  of  our  deficiencies,  we  do 
not  despair.  We  have  been  baptized  in  the  name  of 
Christ;  we  occasionally  or  perhaps  regularly  attend  his 
house  and  table  ;  we  join  in  no  amusements,  which  we 
do  not  think  innocent  and  rational ;  we  are  free  from 
any  flagrant  vices  ;  and  surely,  we  say,  a  merciful  God 
will  not  call  us  to  a  strict  account  for  our  frailties,  he 
will  renicmber  the  weakness  of  our  nature,  pardon  for 
Christ's  sake  our  sins,  and  when  we  die  take  us  to 
heaven.  It  is  astonishing,  brethren,  how  confidently  a 
man  will  often  hope  for  the  blessings  of  the  gospel, 
while  he  despises  and  heartily  hates  the  gospel  itself„ 
Our  hope  often  seems  to  be  the  strongest  when  the 


The  Wedding  Garment.  577 

foundation,  on  which  it  rests,  is  the  weakest.  Who 
amongst  ourselves  has  at  the  present  moment  the 
firmest  hope  of  salvation  in  his  breast  ?  That  man  per- 
haps, who,  since  he  entered  this  church,  has  not  had 
one  thought  in  his  mind  which  has  not  been  worldly 
and  sensual,  and  who,  when  he  leaves  it,  will  laugh  to 
scorn  the  very  truths  he  has  here  professed  to  believe, 
openly  profane  the  sabbath,  and  brave  the  vengeance  of 
God  by  pouring  contempt  on  his  laws.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  among  us,  who  is  arrived  the  nearest  to  hea- 
ven, who  most  loves  the  earthly  sabbaths  of  the  Lord, 
and  is  most  afraid  of  profaning  them,  who  will  go  from 
this  sanctuary  and  turn  his  own  house  into  a  habitation 
of  praise,  he  whom  angels  will  this  day  follow  to  his 
closet  that  they  may  again  rejoice  there  over  a  sinner 
that  repenteth — that  man  perhaps  at  this  very  moment 
scarcely  dares  to  cherish  the  faintest  hope  of  heaven,  is 
fearing  and  trembling. 

II.  But  notwithstanding  this  resemblance,  there  was 
one  point  of  difference  between  the  man  here  spoken 
of,  and  the  other  guests  at  the  marriage  feast,  and  that 
an  important  and  ruinous  difference.  He  had  not  on  a 
wedding  garment.  What  then  are  we  to  understand  by 
this  wedding  garment?  One  thing  is  plain,  that  be  it 
what  it  may,  it  was  nothing  that  this  indigent  guest 
could  have  procured  for  himself.  Ke  was  taken  as  a 
beggar  from  the  public  street,  and  had  no  means  of 
providing  himself  with  apparel  suited  for  the  palace  of 
a  king.  This  wedding  garment  therefore  cannot  relate 
to  any  thing,  which  is  to  be  obtained  by  means  of  our 
own  sufficiency  or  worth.  Whatever  is  referred  to  by 
it,  must  be  something  which  we  do  not  naturally  pos- 
sess ;  something,  which  we  must  receive  as  beggars 
from  the  hand  of  God. 

4D 


578  The  Wedding  Garment, 

Hence  it  has  often  been  considered  as  referring  to  the 
righteousness  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  that  perfect 
obedience,  which,  as  tlie  substitute  of  his  people,  he 
rendered  to  the  law  of  Jeiiovah,  and  which,  by  an  act 
of  grace,  is  imputed  or  transferred  to  them  as  soon  as 
they  believe  in  him,  and  constitutes  the  only  title  to 
heaven  they  can  ever  possess.  This  righteousness  is 
often  spoken  of  in  the  Scriptures  under  the  figure  of  a 
garment,  and  may  be  alluded  to  under  this  term  in  the 
text;  but  considering  the  passage  in  connection  with 
the  parable,  or  rather  the  series  of  parables,  of  which  it 
forms  a  part,  it  may  perhaps  appear  to  require  a  dif- 
ferent interpretation.  The  object  of  Christ  throughout 
this  lengthened  conversation  with  the  Jews  appears  to 
liave  been,  to  forewarn  them  of  their  approaching  re- 
jection by  God,  and  to  declare  the  ground  of  this  rejec- 
tion— their  disobedience  to  his  laws  while  they  pro- 
fessed to  be  his  people ;  their  want  of  sincere  practical 
religion.  This  one  thing,  w'hich  they  wanted,  he  seems 
to  have  had  in  view  when  he  made  use  of  the  expres- 
sion before  us,  and  it  consequently  may  be  considered 
as  denoting  real^  heart-felt  piety. 

But  here  the  question  arises,  what  is  real  piety  ?  It 
is  brethren,  a  state  of  mind  suited  to  the  spiritual  feast, 
to  which  we  are  invited.  It  is  an  humble  heart,  a  bro- 
ken  and  contrite  spirit,  a  mind  deeply  impressed  with 
a  sense  of  its  own  unworthiness,  and  loathing  itself  on 
account  of  its  complicated  guilt ;  such  a  heart  as  Da- 
vid had,  when  he  watered  his  couch  widi  his  tears,  or 
that  abased  publican,  when  he  smote  on  his  breast  and 
cried  for  mercy.  It  is  a  praying  heart,  a  heart  seeking 
with  all  its  powers  the  salvation  of  Jesus,  and  willing  to 
make  any  sacrifice  in  order  to  obtain  it ;  such  a  heart 
as  the  trembling  jailer  had,  when  he  cried,   "  What 


The  TVedding  Garment.  579 

must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  such  a  heart  as  beat  in  the 
breast  of  Paul,  when  he  said,  "  Yea,  doubtless,  and  I 
count  all  things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ  Jesus,  my  Lord,  for  whom  I  have  suf- 
fered the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count  them  but 
dung  that  I  may  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in  him."  It 
is  a  believing  heart,  a  heart  trusting  in  the  righteous- 
ness of  Christ  alone  for  pardon,  laying  hold  by  faith  of 
his  promises,  hoping  in  his  mercy.  It  is  a  holy  heart,  a 
heart  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness,  lov- 
ing God  because  he  is  a  holy  God,  delighting  in  his 
law  because  it  is  a  holy  law,  desiring  his  kingdom  be- 
cause it  is  a  holy  kingdom. 

The  wedding  garment  is,  in  short,  a  wedding  spirit ; 
holiness,  a  conformity  of  our  desires,  tempers,  thoughts, 
and  affections,  to  those  spiritual  blessings,  which  are  of- 
fered us  in  the  gospel ;  a  conversation  such  as  becometh 
the  gospel  of  Christ,  a  walking  worthy  of  the  vocation 
wherewith  we  are  called.  We  are  accordingly  told  by 
Saint  John,  that  when  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb  was 
come,  and  his  wife,  the  church,  had  made  herself  ready, 
"  to  her  was  granted  that  she  should  be  arrayed  in  fine 
linen  clean  and  white,  for  the  fine  linen  is  the  righ- 
teousness of  the  saints."  In  this  righteousness  our 
meetness  for  heaven  consists.  Without  this  wc  can 
neither  enter  heaven  nor  enjoy  its  blessedness.  It  is 
this,  which  distinguishes  the  Christian  from  every  other 
man ;  and  it  is  for  want  of  this,  that  multitudes,  who 
are  expecting  mercy,  will  be  rejected  by  God,  and  ba- 
nished for  ever  from  his  presence.  Not  that  this  holi- 
ness of  heart  can  give  us  any  claim  on  the  divine  fa- 
vour. It  is  itself  a  gift  of  mercy.  If  we  are  meet  to  be 
partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  it  is 
the  Father,  who  hath  made  us  meet ;  we  are  his  work 


580  The  Wedding  Garment, 

manship  ;  created  anew  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good 
works.  The  holiest  man  therefore  has  no  more  cause 
for  boasting,  than  the  most  sinful.  The  apostle  Paul, 
when,  at  the  close  of  his  life,  he  could  appeal  to  all 
around  him  and  even  to  his  God,  and  say  without  fear 
of  contradiction,  "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have 
finished  my  course  ;  I  have  kept  the  faith" — this  noble 
apostle,  at  the  very  hour  when  his  eyes  were  fixed  on 
his  crown,  and  his  hands  almost  laying  hold  of  it,  and 
his  ears  about  to  hear  from  the  throne  of  the  Eternal 
those  sounds,  which  are  never  heard  even  by  the 
highest  angel  without  causing  him  to  triumph  anew  in 
his  glory,  **  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant" — 
at  this  very  hour  the  faithful  Paul  had  no  more  claim 
on  the  happiness  of  heaven,  than  when  he  was  first 
beaten  to  the  ground  and  cried  for  mercy. 

III.  But  why  was  not  this  man  arrayed  in  a  wedding 
garment,  as  well  as  the  other  guests?  To  what  causes 
must  we  trace  this  difference  between  him  and  them  ? 
It  is  plain  that  it  must  be  traced  to  himself;  and  yet 
we  do  not  see  at  first  wherein  he  was  culpable,  and  may 
be  ready  to  think  that  he  was  condemned  by  the  king 
for  that,  which  was  his  misfortune  rather  than  his 
crime.  He  was  evidently  too  poor  to  buy  a  proper 
dress  for  this  occasion ;  and  had  he  been  ever  so  rich, 
he  was  brought  to  the  feast  so  suddenly,  that  the  ne- 
cessary time  was  not  allowed  him  to  provide  one.  It 
must  hov.ever  be  remembered,  that  it  was  customary 
in  many  of  the  eastern  nations  for  the  master  of  the 
house  to  furnish  the  guests,  whom  he  invited  to  any 
feast,  with  suitable  apparel.  Now  we  may  undoubtedly 
conclude  that  this  was  done  in  this  instance  ;  nay,  we 
are  sure  that  it  was  done,  for  we  find  all  the  guests  ar- 
rayed in  wedding  garments  except  this  man.  He  there- 


The  Wedding  Garment.  581 

fore  had  been  offered  one,  but  from  some  motive  or 
other  he  had  refused  it.  Carelessness  perhaps,  inconsi- 
deration,  led  to  this  refusal.  He  might  not  think  it  a 
matter  of  any  importance  in  what  dress  he  was  clad, 
and  heedlessly  hurried  into  the  room  just  as  he  had  left 
the  highway.  Or  it  might  be  pride.  He  might  think 
his  own  clothes  sufficiently  good  for  the  occasion,  or, 
if  not,  he  might  be  unwilling  to  appear  there  in  a  bor- 
rowed robe.  At  all  events  there  was  great  irreverence 
in  his  conduct.  He  had  no  adequate  conceptions  of  the 
dignity  of  the  king,  and  consequently  cared  not  how  he 
appeared  before  him,  so  that  he  obtained  a  share  in  his 
liberality  ;  or  perhaps  he  thought  him  careless  and  inat- 
tentive, and  expected  to  pass  unobserved  amongst  the 
multitude  of  other  guests. 

And  what  is  it,  brethren,  but  carelessness,  pride,  and 
irreverence,  which  keeps  so  many  of  us  satisfied  with  the 
form,  while  we  are  destitute  of  the  power  of  godliness  ? 
We  are  most  awfully  careless  about  the  matter.  We 
hear  of  the  things,  which  concern  our  everlasting  peace, 
death  and  judgment,  heaven  and  hell,  grace  and  salva- 
tion ;  but  we  do  not  seriously  think  about  them.  We 
have  no  desire,  no  heart  to  think  of  them.  When  we 
strive  to  force  our  minds  up  to  them,  they  shrink  and 
turn  away.  We  are  occupied  in  making  provision  for 
the  flesh  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof,  and  have  neither 
time  nor  inclination  to  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Born  for  eternity,  and  sometimes  proudly  boasting  of 
the  dignity  of  our  high  destination,  we  yet  live  as 
though  we  regarded  it  all  a  delusion,  and  looked  on 
the  grave  as  the  last  end  of  man.  And  if  we  are  forced 
by  sickness,  by  sermons,  by  conscience,  sometimes  to 
think  about  that  world,  whither  we  are  going,  pride 
rises  in  our  minds,  and  keeps  us  from  seeking  the 


58'Z  The  Wedding  Garment, 

grace,  which  has  been  provided  for  sinners.  We  think 
that  we  can  do  without  it ;  that  our  prayers  and  ser- 
vices, the  filthy  rags  of  our  own  righteousness,  will 
supply  its  place.  Wc  despise  and  hate  the  humiliating 
salvation,  which  Christ  died  to  purchase,  and  rather 
than  degrade  ourselves  by  having  recourse  to  it,  we 
are  determined  to  run  some  risk,  to  go  into  eternity 
when  we  can  remain  here  no  longer,  and  take  the  same 
chance  as  our  neighbours  in  that  unknown  world. 

This  carelessness  and  pride  are  always  connected 
with  irreverence^  with  low  thoughts  of  God.  We  strip 
him  of  those  infinite  perfections,  which  the  Bible 
ascribes  to  him,  or,  at  least,  we  limit  and  curtail  them  ; 
we  bring  him  down  as  nearly  as  po^^sible  to  a  level 
with  ourselves  ;  we  make  him  a  phantom  ;  and  then 
we  despise  him.  We  know  not  the  greatness  of  God, 
or  never,  brethren,  should  wc  trifle  with  him.  We 
know  not  the  power  of  his  anger,  or  we  should  not 
brave  it.  We  know  nothing  of  his  purity,  or  we  should 
tremble  to  stand  before  him  in  our  own  righteousness. 
It  is  ignorance,  ignorance  of  the  living  God,  of  his 
majesty,  of  his  holiness,  of  his  justice,  which  keeps  us 
so  light-hearted  in  our  sins,  and  so  proud  in  our  mean- 
ness. One  glimpse  of  his  glory,  one  right  thought  of 
the  character  of  him,  whose  word  shaketh  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  whose  wrath  burneth  like  fire,  and  in 
whose  sight  his  own  heavens  are  not  clean,  would 
make  many  of  us  tremble,  pour  an  unknown  flood  of 
light  into  our  minds,  and  fill  us  with  wonder  and  fear. 
It  would  lead  us  to  exclaim  with  Isaiah,  "■  Woe  is  me, 
for  I  am  undone  !'* — with  Job,  "  I  have  heard  of  thee 
by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  now  mine  eye  seeth 
thee  ;  wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and 
ashes." 


The  Wedding  Garment.  583 

IV.  Inconsideration  therefore,  pride,  and  irreverence 
appear  to  have  been  the  causes,  to  which  the  difference 
between  this  man  and  the  other  guests  must  be  traced. 
Let  us  proceed  to  consider,  lastly,  the  consequences, 
to  which  it  led. 

1.  The  first  of  these  was  detection.  For  a  time  he 
seems  to  have  remained  undiscovered  and  unsuspected 
among  his  companions.  His  garments  might  possibly 
bear  some  faint  resemblance  to  theirs,  or,  if  not,  every 
man  might  be  too  intent  on  the  feast  before  him  to  pay 
much  attention  to  the  difference.  But  this  did  not  last 
long.  In  the  midst  of  his  fancied  security  and  high 
expectations  of  enjoyment,  the  king  came  in  to  see 
the  guests,  and  in  a  moment  his  eye  is  on  the  man. 
"  Friend,"  says  he,  ^^  how  camest  thou  in  hither,  not 
having  a  wedding  garment  ?"  We  know  the  spiritual 
application  of  the  question.  It  tells  us  that  we  may  de- 
ceive ourselves  and  others  by  a  profession  of  religion, 
but  that  we  cannot  deceive  God.  However  closely  we 
may  resemble  his  people,  however  trifling  our  cherished 
lust  may  be,  and  however  secretly  indulged,  however 
long  we  may  have  passed  among  the  wise  and  good 
for  his  servants,  he  has  never  been  imposed  on  by  us, 
never  for  one  moment  wavered  in  his  judgment  of  us, 
never  even  hoped  that  we  were  his  children.  His  eye, 
like  a  flame  of  fire,  pierces  through  the  thickest  cover- 
ing, searches  our  hearts,  and  sees  reigning  there,  un- 
subdued, and  it  may  be,  unresisted,  that  love  of  sin, 
which  men  behold  not,  which  angels  perhaps  observe 
not,  which  we  ourselves  suspect  not.  He  can  tell  which 
of  us,  in  the  midst  of  our  infirmities,  is  clothed  with 
the  robe  of  righteousness,  and  which  of  us,  in  the  midst 
of  our  specious  godliness,  is  refusing  to  put  it  on.  Nay. 
he  not  only  can  perceive  the  difference,  but  is  actually 


584  The  Wedding  Garment. 

at  this  very  moment  marking  it.  His  eye  is  even  now 
fixed  intently  on  each  of  us,  watching  every  movement 
of  our  minds,  and  discovering  the  secret  desires  and 
transactions  of  our  inmost  souls.  He  knows  where  our 
thoughts  are,  and  how  they  have  been  employed  since 
we  entered  his  house  ;  whether  they  have  been  trifling 
or  serious  ;  whether  they  have  been  unclean  or  holy  ; 
whether  they  have  been  humble  or  proud  ;  whether 
we  have  been  striving  to  fix  them  on  high  and  hea- 
venly things,  or  whether  we  have  been  suffering  them 
to  wander  at  liberty  among  low  and  earthly  things,  our 
farms  and  our  merchandize.  And  for  what  end  does 
he  thus  inspect  us  ?  If  we  are  his  friends,  that  he  may 
help  and  bless  us  ;  if  we  are  his  enemies,  that  he  may 
judge  and  expose  us  ;  that  he  may  bring  our  iniqui- 
ties to  light ;  that  either  in  this  world  or  the  next,  he 
may  strip  us  of  our  disguise  as  he  stripped  Gehazi  and 
Judas,  and  cause  all  around  us  to  wonder  at  the  sud- 
denness and  fearfulness  of  our  shame. 

2.  Detection  was  not  all,  which  the  folly  of  this  man 
brought  on  him.  It  was  followed  by  confusion.  He 
could  not  answer  the  question  of  the  king.  A  con- 
sciousness of  guilt  confounded  him,  and  he  stood 
speechless.  And  thus  shall  all  the  ungodly  be  con- 
founded. They  may  for  a  season  vaunt  themselves  in 
their  self-sufficiency,  and  find  plausible  excuses  for  all 
their  iniquities.  Man  is  never  at  a  loss  to  palliate  and 
justify  wickedness.  In  the  garden  of  Eden  he  first 
practised  the  art,  and  he  has  been  practising  it  with 
dreadful  ingenuity  and  apparent  success  ever  since. 
God  bears  with  our  miserable  reasonings  now ;  he  al- 
lows us  to  misrepresent  and  insult  him ;  but  he  will 
not  bear  with  us  when  he  comes  to  judge  the  world. 
Then  will  every  mouth  be  stopped;  and  every  self 


The  IVedding  Garment.  585 

justifying  sinner  be  struck  dumb,  and  every  proud 
transgressor  be  covered  with  shame  and  everlasting 
contempt. 

3.  And  then  too  shall  the  self-deceiver  and  hypo- 
crite receive  another  fruit  of  their  guilt — destructionf 
everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 
and  from  the  glory  of  his  power.  *'  Then  said  the  king 
to  the  servants,  '  Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  take 
him  away,  and  cast  him  into  outer  darkness  ;  there 
shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth.'  " 

Now  this  fearful  sentence  seems  to  comprehend 
three  evils,  bitter  disappointment,  banishment  from 
God,  and  acute  suffering.  We  all  know  how  much 
bitterness  there  is  in  disappointment,  especially  when  it 
comes  altogether  unlooked  for,  and  after  hope  has  been 
long  cherished ;  but  what  disappointment  can  equal 
that  of  losing  heaven  at  the  very  hour  when  we  are  ex- 
pecting to  enter  it  ?  of  having  those  presumptuous 
hopes,  which  we  have  so  long  and  so  fondly  indulged, 
blasted  in  a  single  moment,  and  ending  in  eternal 
banishment  from  God ;  in  utter  exclusion  from  the 
presence  of  him,  out  of  whose  presence  there  can  be 
no  blessedness,  no  rest  ?  And  who  can  say  what  this 
banishment  includes  ?  None  but  the  damned  under- 
stand the  word.  If  we  were  in  our  right  mind,  the  very 
thought  of  it  would  appal  us.  It  cuts  us  off  from  all 
possibility  of  happiness  ;  it  fixes  a  great  and  impassa- 
ble gulph  between  us  and  all  the  glories,  which  the 
blessed  God  has  provided  for  his  children  ;  and  not 
only  this,  it  sends  us  into  everlasting  fire,  into  all  the 
anguish,  which  he  has  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels,  into  a  world  of  the  most  excessive  grief  and  the 
most  intense  suffering,  a  world  of  darkness,  of  weeping, 
and  wailing,  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 

4  E 


586  The  Wedding  Garnient. 

And  now,  brethren,  let  us  ask  what  these  things  are 
to  us.  To  the  openly  profane  and  worldly  they  speak 
the  language  of  terror.  They  set  before  them,  not  one 
like  themselves,  turning  his  back  on  the  marriage  feast, 
forgetting  in  his  sins  and  cares  the  invitations  of  the 
gospel,  and  when  reminded  of  them  pouring  contempt 
on  them  ;  but  one,  who  actually  comes  to  this  feast, 
who  appears  to  seek  the  mercies  of  Christ,  associating 
with  his  friends,  and  regarded  by  them  as  one  of  their 
number.  And  what  is  the  end  of  this  man  ?  Confusion 
and  destruction.  You  know  the  inference.  \{  this 
seeming  friend,  this  man  who  lacked  only  one  thing 
was  thus  condemned,  and  thus  condemned  solely  be- 
cause this  one  thing  was  lacking,  what  sentence  will  be 
passed  on  you,  who  are  the  open  enemies  of  God  ?  what 
punishment  shall  you  endure,  who  are  destitute  of  every 
thing  that  he  requires  in  his  people  ? 

And  what  professor  of  religion  can  meditate  on  this 
Scripture,  without  great  searchings  of  heart?  You 
know  perhaps  your  want  of  the  precious  blessings  of 
the  gospel,  you  desire  them,  you  profess  to  be  seeking, 
and  you  expect  to  receive  them ;  but  what  do  these 
things  prove  ?  Nothing,  absolutely  nothing.  The  great 
question  still  remains  undecided;  the  wedding  garment 
may  not  even  yet  be  put  on  ;  and  without  this,  of  what 
avail  are  professions  and  desires  ?  Of  what  avail  are  fa- 
vourable appearances,  and  rising  hopes,  and  the  honour 
of  men?  Will  they  blind  the  eye  of  the  King,  when 
he  comes  in  to  see  the  guests?  Will  they  withstand 
the  ministers  of  vengeance,  when  the  command  is 
given,  "  Take  him  away  ?"  Will  they  cheer  the  gloom 
of  outer  darkness,  and  silence  the  wailing,  which  is 
heard  there?  Alas,  no!  Were  you  the  only  hypocrites, 
the  only  hollow  professors,  among  the  assembled  my- 


The  Wedding  Garment.  5S7 

riads  of  the  human  race,  your  God  would  discover 
you.  Were  you  more  like  his  people  than  Balaam  or 
Judas,  he  would  condemn  you,  his  angels  would  cast 
you  out  of  his  presence,  hell  would  receive  you.  The 
wedding  garment  must  be  worn,  or  the  provisions  of 
the  heavenly  feast  remain  untasted.  A  gospel  spirit 
must  be  put  on,  or  the  mercies  of  the  gospel  lost. 

Let  us  come  to  the  point,  brethren.  Have  we  put  on 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ?  Have  we  washed  our  robes  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ?  Or  rather 
have  we  thrown  oft'  altogether  our  own  filthy  raiment, 
and  entreated  the  Redeemer  to  clothe  us  with  the  gar- 
ments of  his  salvation,  to  cover  us  with  the  robe  of  his 
righteousness  ?  Trusting  no  more  in  our  good  than  in 
our  bad  works,  no  more  in  our  prayers  than  in  our 
curses,  are  the  merits  of  Christ  our  only  dependance, 
our  only  hope,  our  only  plea  ?  Do  we  bring  a  gospel 
spirit  to  the  gospel  feast,  an  humble,  a  praying,  a  be- 
lieving, and  a  holy  heart  ?  Surely  it  becomes  each  of 
us  to  turn  his  eyes  inward,  and  to  examine  himself  by 
these  tests.  It  is  a  mere  trifling  with  ourselves,  and  a 
mocking  of  God  also  to  try  ourselves  by  any  other.  If 
we  cannot  bear  this  trial ;  if  we  cannot  bear  the  exami- 
nation of  our  own  consciences  now,  when  all  is  long- 
suffering  and  goodness,  how  shall  we  bear  the  piercing 
glance  of  the  living  God,  when  the  heavens  being  on 
fire  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat,  when  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  shall  be  revealed  in  flaming  fire,  taking  ven- 
geance ? 

And  what  if  conscience  should  condemn  us  ?  There 
is  no  ground  for  despair.  The  King's  wardrobe  is  still 
open,  and  we  are  invited  to  go  to  it  and  take  that  wed- 
ding garment,  which  will  cover  and  adorn  our  souls. 
"I  counsel  thee,"  says  Christ,  ^^  to  buy  of  me  white 


588  The  Wedding  Garment. 

raiment,  that  thou  mayest  be  clothed,  and  that  the  shame 
of  thy  nakedness  do  not  appear."  And  at  what  price  is 
this  raiment  to  be  bought  ?  At  a  price,  which  the 
poorest  and  most  wretched  may  pay.  All  he  requires 
of  us  to  part  with  in  exchange  for  it,  is  self-conceit, 
carelessness,  pride,  irreverence.  Only  let  us  be  content 
to  surrender  these,  and  then  he  will  bring  forth  the  best 
robe,  and  put  it  on  us,  and  rejoice  over  us,  and  be  glad. 
We  shall  sit  down  at  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb. 
He  will  give  us  a  full,  a  satisfying  share  of  the  feast ;  a 
fulness  of  pardon,  that  will  cleanse  us  from  all  our  sins ; 
a  fulness  of  holiness,  that  will  make  us  in  the  end  pure 
as  his  angels ;  a  fulness  of  joy,  that  will  leave  us  no- 
thing to  wish  for ;  a  fulness  of  glory,  that  will  be 
brighter  than  the  sun  shining  in  his  strength,  and  more 
durable  than  the  stars  in  the  firmament. 


SERMON  XXXIX. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  REIGNING  IN  LIFE. 

ooaooQoo 

ROMANS  V.   17. 

For  if  by  one  mmi's  offence  death  reigned  by  one,  much  Jtiore  they  ivhick 
receive  abundance  0/  grace  and  0/  the  gift  of  righteousness,  shall 
reign  in  life  by  one,  Jesus  Christ. 


In  the  passage,  with  which  these  words  are  connected, 
the  apostle  is  speaking  of  the  ruin  of  mankind  by  the 
first  Adam,  and  their  recovery  by  Christ,  the  second. 
His  immediate  design  is  to  show  the  agreement  in 
some  respects,  and  the  difference  in  others,  between 
these  two  covenant  heads.  The  text  is  a  summary  of 
his  whole  reasoning,  and  we  shall  be  enabled  to  see 
something  of  its  meaning  if  we  consider,  ^r^^,  the  evil 
introduced  into  the  world  by  Adam ;  secondly^  the 
blessing  introduced  by  Christ ;  thirdly ^  the  persons, 
for  whom  this  blessing  is  designed  ;  and,  fourthly ,  the 
certainty  of  their  receiving  it. 

I.  We  are  to  consider,  first,  the  evil  introduced  into 
the  world  by  Adam.  This  evil  is  death,  and  not  death 
only,  but  the  reign  of  death.  "  By  one  man's  offence 
death  reigned." 

There  was  a  time  when  death  was  a  stranger  in  the 
world.  It  was  sin,  which  brought  him  here,  the  sin  of 
Adam.  In  the  day  that  he  transgressed,  he  died.  His 
body  became  subject  to  disease  and  corruption,  and  his 
soul  destitute  of  all  spiritual  existence.  It  still  lived 
indeed,  but  it  thought  not,  it  fek  not,  as  it  once  thought 


590  The  Christian 

and  felt.    Its  purity  was  gone,  and  with  it  all  that  con- 
stituted its  glory. 

But  the  consequences  of  his  transgression  did  not 
end  here.  Sin  gave  to  death  a  fearful  dominion  over 
the  whole  globe  on  which  man  dwelt.  In  that  hour,  he 
claimed  the  earth  as  his  empire,  and  all  mankind  as  his 
prey.  Hence  he  is  represented  in  the  text  as  a  mighty 
monarch,  reigning  undethroned  and  uncontrolled  over 
all  the  sons  of  men.  They  love  him  not  indeed,  and  are 
daily  resisting  his  power,  but  he  laughs  to  scorn  their 
efforts,  and  the  contest  ends  in  their  lying  down  in  the 
dust.  The  wide  world  is  his  kingdom,  his  peculiar, 
yea,  his  only  kingdom.  Into  heaven  he  never  entered, 
and  in  hell  he  cannot  destroy ;  but  here  he  has  erected 
his  throne,  and  given  to  the  earth  a  name,  which  no 
other  perhaps  among  the  millions  of  Jehovah's  worlds 
ever  bore,  "The  kingdom  of  death." 

The  soul  too  is  brought  under  his  dominion.  There 
is  not  one  of  us,  who  is  not  by  nature  dead  in  trespasses 
ynd  sins.  Sin  is  not  an  incidental  evil ;  it  is  not  a  fo- 
reign enemy,  occasionally  assailing  us,  and  though 
sometimes  victorious,  at  other  times  beaten  off;  it  is 
an  enemy,  who  has  already  completely  conquered  us  and 
is  holding  us  in  vile  captivity  ;  subjecting  the  soul  to 
its  laws ;  filling  it  with  wretchedness  b\  its  tyranny, 
but  still  making  it  submit  to  and  even  love  its  bondage. 
It  dwells  within  every  heart,  and  reigns  there  ;  and 
■where  sin  reigns,  there  death  reigns,  and  God  himself 
sanctions  his  authority  and  upholds  his  power. 

Now  it  is  vain,  brethren,  for  us  to  say  that  these 
things  cannot  be,  that  the  offence  of  one  man  cannot 
be  followed  by  consequences  so  universal,  so  lasting, 
and  so  tremendous.  We  may  doubt  and  dispute ;  but 
while  we  are  disputing,  men  are  sinning,  and  suffering, 


Reigning  ill  Life.  591 

and  dying  around  us,  and  we  cannot  account  either  for 
their  depravity,  or  their  wretchedness.  Facts  are  con- 
founding our  proud  reasonings,  and  exposing  them 
to  scorn. 

II.  It  appears  then  tliat  the  reign  of  death,  of  natural 
and  of  spiritual  death,  is  the  evil,  which  was  introduced 
into  the  world  by  the  sin  of  Adam.  Let  us  now  go  on 
to  consider,  secondly,  the  blessing  introduced  by  Christ, 
It  is  a  reign  in  life. 

Now  life,  as  it  is  used  by  the  inspired  writers,  is  a 
word  of  very  extensive  meaning.  It  is  here  opposed  to 
death,  and  signifies  a  state  of  spiritual  existence ;  a  re- 
storation to  the  soul  of  that  spiritual  perception  and 
activity,  wliich  it  originally  possessed ;  a  new  birth 
unto  righteousness,  a  living  unto  God.  The  soul  no 
sooner  receives  this  new  life,  than  it  begins  to  be  filled 
with  hopes  and  fears,  desires  and  dispositions,  to  which 
in  its  fallen  state  it  was  an  entire  stranger.  It  becomes 
concerned  about  its  own  safety,  and  conscious  of  its 
own  dignity.  The  things  of  eternity  arrests  its  atten- 
tion, and  call  all  its  powers  into  exercise.  It  thinks, 
and  feels,  and  acts,  as  though  it  regarded  itself  born  for 
an  immortal  existence ;  as  though  it  looked  on  heaven 
as  its  home,  and  never  could  be  satisfied  or  happy,  till 
it  should  be  engaged  in  its  services  and  sharing  in 
its  joys. 

But  they,  who  have  received  this  precious  benefit, 
not  only  live,  they  reign  in  life.  And  the  expression 
intimates  that  they  have  burst  the  fetters,  by  which  a 
whole  world  has  been  for  ages  enthralled.  And  not 
only  this ;  it  imphes  power.  It  tells  us  that  they  have 
overcome,  as  well  as  escaped  from  their  enemies ;  not 
merely  freed  themselves  from  their  tyranny,  but  abso- 
lutely attained  a  dominion  over  them.  They  were  once 


592  The  Chvisiian 

the  subjects  of  Satan,  they  now  bruise  him  underneath 
their  feet.  The  world  once  held  them  in  thraldom,  they 
loved,  and  feared,  and  obeyed  it ;  but  now  its  pleasures 
and  follies  have  lost  their  power  to  sway  them,  and  the 
world  also  is  overcome.  Once  too  they  were  governed 
and  tormented  by  lawless  passions,  tyrannized  over  by 
the  most  degrading  and  unhallowed  lusts  ;  but  now, 
rescued  from  this  abject  state,  they  reign  as  lords  over 
their  own  soul,  and  no  longer  suffer  it  to  obey  the  law 
of  sin  and  death.  They  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  body  ; 
they  crucify  the  flesh  with  the  affections  and  lusts.  Not 
that  their  victory  is  complete.  Their  throne  is  secure, 
but  It  is  surrounded  by  rebels,  who  incessantly  disturb 
its  peace.  Their  conquered  enemies  still  struggle  for 
their  former  sovereignty.  Satan  still  assails,  the  world 
still  tempts,  sin  still  rages.  They  feel  a  law  in  their 
members  warring  against  the  law  of  their  mind,  and 
this  harasses  and  grieves  them.  It  often  causes  them 
to  cry  out  for  deliverance,  like  prisoners  in  a  dungeon, 
rather  than  rejoice  in  their  power,  like  monarchs  on  a 
throne. 

But  with  such  a  dominion  as  this,  though  it  may  be 
occasionaly  disturbed,  dignity  must  be  connected.  And 
what  so  truly  great  and  noble,  as  to  be  masters  of  our- 
selves ?  What  so  base  as  to  be  the  slaves  of  sin  ?  Who 
has  not  felt  degraded  and  ashamed  as  he  has  obeyed  its 
laws  ?  And  who  has  not  felt  that  there  is  an  honour  in 
self-denial,  a  greatness  in  real  religion,  which  the 
proudest  earthly  distinctions  never  can  impart. 

But  we  must  not  stop  here.  The  language  of  the 
apostle  was  designed  to  lift  up  our  minds  to  the  world 
above  us,  to  that  world,  where  there  is  life  without  even 
the  possibility  of  death,  power  without  any  mixture  of 
weakness,  and  a  glory  brighter  than  that  of  the  sun, 


Reigning  in  Life,  5,93 

when  he  shineth  in  his  strength.  There  the  Christian 
will  indeed  live  and  reign.  We  know  not  what  new 
faculties  may  there  be  bestowed  on  him,  nor  to  what 
degree  his  present  powers  may  be  enlarged ;  nor  need 
we  be  desirous  of  knowing.  His  greatness  will  not  pro- 
ceed from  such  sources  as  these.  He  will  have  attained 
a  complete  triumph  over  sin.  He  will  be  pure;  and  pu- 
rity can  invest  the  meanest  of  Jehovah's  creatures  with 
a  dignity  greater  than  that,  which  the  highest  without 
it  ever  can  possess.  An  angel  without  purity  is  a  devil, 
and  a  man  with  it  is  an  angel,  nay,  he  is  more.  Higher 
and  more  glorious  things  have  been  spoken  of  him, 
than  we  have  ever  heard  spoken  of  those  ministering 
spirits  of  God.  Even  in  his  present  state  of  humilia- 
tion, he  is  called  the  temple  of  the  living  God,  his  royal 
priesthood ;  and  when  he  ascends  up  into  the  presence 
of  his  Saviour,  what  mind  can  conceive  the  greatness 
of  the  honour,  which  will  be  put  on  him  there  ?  Then 
shall  the  Son  of  man  say  to  him  from  the  throne  of  his 
glory,  "  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit 
with  me  on  my  throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame,  and 
am  set  down  with  my  Father  on  his  throne."  And  what 
shall  follow  this  declaration  of  grace  ?  He,  who  once 
suffered  with  Christ,  shall  be  glorified  together  with 
him,  shall  enter  in  the  sight  of  wondering  angels  into 
his  honour  and  felicity,  receive  from  him  a  crown  of 
life,  and  then  join  in  the  shout,  which  throusrhout  eter- 
nity  shall  be  the  loudest  and  sweetest  in  the  courts  of 
heaven,  "  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from 
our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and 
priests  unto  God  and  his  Father,  unto  him  be  glory 
and  dominion  forever  and  ever." 

What  a  marvellous  and  glorious  change  is  this,  that 
the  offspring  of  the  dust,  the  feeble  mortals,  who  were 

4F 


594'  The  Christian 

once  tlie  trembling  victims  of  death,  should  reign  in 
life  5  should  enter  a  world  of  never-ending  life  and  have 
dominion  over  it,  imve  all  its  joys  at  their  command, 
and  all  its  honours  resting  on  their  heads !  And  to 
whom  are  they  indebted  for  this  wondrous  change  ? 
To  themselves  ?  The  dead  cannot  raise  themselves  to 
life.  To  the  father,  who  ruined  them  ?  Alas,  no  !  He 
made  them  the  children  of  wretchedness,  and  then  he 
went  away  and  left  them  to  their  misery.  To  legions 
of  angels?  All  their  mighty  hosts  could  not  reanimate 
one  lifeless  body,  much  less  quicken  and  glorify  a 
sleeping  soul.  One  Being  only  was  able  to  accomplish 
this  glorious  change,  but  he  was  the  very  Being,  who 
seemed  the  least  likely  to  accomplish  it,  for  it  was  his 
righteous  vengeance,  which  had  sent  death  into  the 
world,  and  his  voice,  which  had  proclaimed  him  its 
king.  By  him  however  was  death  dethroned.  When  his 
power  seemed  invincible,  we  beheld  one  in  our  own 
form  triumphing  over  him,  and  when  wc  ask  the  name 
of  the  conqueror,  when  we  take  up  the  words  of  the 
prophet  and  say,  "  Who  is  this  that  cometh  from 
Edom,  with  dyed  garments  from  Bozrah ;  this  that  is 
glorious  in  his  apparel,  travelling  in  the  greatness  of 
his  strength?"  he  himself  answers  the  enquiry,  and 
reveals  to  us  his  dignity.  "  1  that  speak  in  righteous- 
ness, mighty  to  save.  The  day  of  vengeance  is  in  mine 
heart,  and  the  year  of  my  redeemed  is  come.  And  I 
looked,  and  there  was  none  to  help,  and  1  wondered 
that  there  was  none  to  uphold;  therefore  mine  own 
arm  brought  salvation  unto  me,  and  my  fury  it  upheld 
me."  It  is  therefore  by  Jesus  Christ,  that  the  former 
slaves  of  death  now  reign  in  life ;  by  him  to  the  utter 
exclusion  of  all  others,  to  the  utter  rejection  of  all  our 
claims  to  any  part  of  the  honour  of  the  work.     "  He 


Reigning  in  Life.  595 

trod  the  wine-press  alone,  and  of  the  people  there  was 
none  with  him ;"  and  he  alone  must  bear  the  glory. 
He  alone  among  the  multitudes,  who  are  reigning  in 
heaven,  is  worthy  to  receive  honour,  and  glory,  and 
blessing. 

III.  And  here  an  important  question  arises.  Who 
are  the  persons,  for  whom  this  great  blessing,  this  reign 
in  life,  is  designed?  All  the  human  race?  Obviously 
not.  The  sin  of  Adam  has  made  all  his  children  sub- 
ject to  death,  but  it  would  evidently  be  absurd  to  say 
that  all  men  have  been  delivered  from  the  power  of 
sin  and  death,  made  spiritually  alive  by  Christ.  The 
worldly  and  ungodly  lives  of  thousands  around  us 
would  at  once  disapprove  such  an  assertion.  All  men 
indeed  in  consequence  of  the  interference  of  Christ  are 
under  a  dispensation  of  mercy.  They  are  endured  with 
much  long-suffering,  a  free  and  full  salvation  is  offered 
them,  and  they  are  invited  and  commanded  to  accept 
it.  But  men  will  not  accept  it.  It  is  a  holy  salvation, 
and  they  hate  holiness.  They  are  in  love  with  their 
sins,  and  would  rather  die  in  them,  than  be  saved 
from  them. 

The  text  however  speaks  of  some,  who  have  received 
this  salvation  ;  and  these  are  the  men,  for  whom  a  king- 
dom in  eternity  is  prepared.  They  are  described  as 
"  receiving  abundance  of  grace  and  of  the  gift  of  righ- 
teousness." 

They  have  received  abundance  of  grace.  And  what 
is  grace  ?  It  is  goodness  exercised  towards  those  who 
deserve  it  not,  favour  shown  to  the  unworthy,  that  free 
favour,  which  God  has  manifested  towards  his  sinful 
children,  pitying  them  in  their  lost  estate,  providing  a 
sacrifice  for  their  iniquities,  bearing  with  their  provo- 
cations, sending  them  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation,  dis- 


596  'file  Christian 

covering  to  them  their  need  of  it,  inclining  their  hearts 
to  seek  it,  and  making  them  actually  partakers  of  its 
blessings. 

But  the  apostle  speaks  of  the  abundance  of  grace,  and 
the  expression  which  he  uses,  is  strong.  It  signifies  an 
overflowing,  a  redundance  of  grace ;  not  only  a  suffi- 
ciency, but  more  than  a  sufficiency  ;  grace  enough  and 
to  spare.  And  look  at  what  part  we  may  of  the  mys- 
tery of  redemption,  we  discover  at  once  the  propriety 
of  the  term.  The  wisdom  which  planned,  and  the 
power  which  executed,  this  stupendous  scheme,  and 
the  love  which  called  this  power  and  this  wisdom  into 
exercise,  are  all  infinite.  The  glory  of  the  salvation 
treasured  up  for  sinners  in  Christ,  the  freedom  with 
which  it  is  communicated,  the  characters  of  those  on 
whom  it  is  bestowed,  all  bear  witness  to  the  un- 
searchable riches,  the  boundless  extent,  of  the  divine 
mercy. 

But  this  abundance  of  grace  shines  with  a  peculiar 
lustre  in  that  part  of  the  work  of  salvation,  which  is  the 
operation  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Behold  a  being  about  to 
take  his  departure  into  an  eternal  world,  and  yet  as 
careless  about  it,  as  though  he  were  never  to  go  there, 
ignorant,  heedless,  earthly.  He  knows  not  but  that  he 
may  die  to-morrow;  he  lives  as  though  he  should 
never  die.  His  soul  is  starving  for  want  of  spiritual 
food,  but  he  feels  no  spiritual  hunger,  and  labours  only 
for  the  meat  which  perislieth.  Hell  is  open  before  him, 
but  he  rushes  forward,  and  if  he  thinks  at  all  about  the 
end  of  his  course,  he  imagines  himself  travelling  to 
wards  heaven.  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts  ;  he  fears 
him  not,  loves  him  not,  seeks  not  his  mercy.  Devils 
tremble  at  his  name,  but  he  laughs  it  to  scorn.  There 
is  but  one  thing  which  he  really  loves,  and  that  is  sin. 


Reigning  in  Life.  597 

In  this  he  delights,  and  though  he  knows  that  its 
wages  are  death,  he  cares  not,  but  consents  to  perish 
rather  than  forsake  it.  Such  is  man,  such  is  every  man, 
such  are  we.  But  behold  this  being  suddenly  pausing 
in  his  awful  career,  becoming  serious  and  thoughtful, 
reflecting  on  the  past,  and  looking  forward  to  the  future. 
Go  with  him  to  the  house  of  God,  and  behold  him 
listening  with  fear  and  trembling  to  the  things  wliich 
concern  his  peace ;  his  heart  beats  quicker  as  he  hears 
of  the  love  of  Jesus,  and  his  soul  is  athirst  for  his  sal- 
vation. Follow  him  to  his  habitation;  he  is  still  com- 
muning with  his  heart.  Look  at  him  in  his  closet,  and 
there  the  stubborn  knee  bends,  there  the  hard  heart 
melts,  there  the  dry  eye  weeps,  and  there  the  now- 
loosened  tongue  pleads  for  mercy.  The  man  now  lives, 
He  can  think  and  feel.  He  is  no  more  like  what  he 
once  was,  than  a  living  man  is  like  a  breathless  corpse. 
Speak  to  him  of  heaven,  of  its  purity  and  glories,  and 
he  longs  to  be  there.  Speak  to  him  of  hell,  and  he 
trembles.  Eternity  has  power  to  affect  and  move  him. 
And  what  a  change  has  taken  place  in  his  affections! 
Mark  how  he  appears  to  loathe  sin ;  how  he  watches 
against  it,  and  struggles  with  it,  and  groans  under  it ! 
And  mark  too  how  he  loves  God ;  how  he  rejoices 
when  he  can  regard  him  as  his  God,  and  how  he 
mourns  under  a  sense  of  his  displeasure!  Now  whence 
has  this  change  proceeded  ?  What  is  it  that  finds  man 
a  fit  companion  for  the  unclean  children  of  darkness^ 
and  makes  him  meet  for  the  pure  inheritance  of  the 
saints  in  light  ?  The  question  admits  but  of  one  an- 
swer. It  is  grace,  the  abundance  of  grace,  the  manifold 
grace  of  God. 

But  the  apostle  mentions  another  blessing,  which 
they  who  reign  in  life  receive,  and  which  he  describeb; 


598  The  Christian 

also  as  exceedingly  abundant;  the  abundance  o^  the  gift 
of  righteousness.  Now  by  this  expression  may  possibly 
be  meant  that  sanctification  of  the  Spirit,  that  renewal 
(jf  the  heart  unto  holiness,  which  the  redeemed  sinner 
invariably  receives  from  the  free  bounty  of  his  Saviour. 
But  the  apostle  seems  rather  to  refer  here  to  the  same 
righteousness,  of  which  he  speaks  in  the  following 
verse,  and  which  he  plainly  declares  to  be  the  obedience 
or  righteousness  of  Christ.  It  is  this,  which  enables  the 
Lord  to  pour  out  the  abundance  of  his  grace  on  his 
apostate  children.  He  imputes  to  them  the  merits  of 
his  dear  Son,  and  then  he  pardons,  accepts,  and  re- 
wards them,  without  weakening  his  authority,  or  tar- 
nishing his  glory.  The  apostle  calls  it  a  gift,  because 
it  is  by  an  act  of  mercy  that  it  is  transferred  to  us ;  he 
speaks  of  it  as  an  abundant  gift,  because  it  completely 
satisfies  the  demands  of  God's  unalterable  law,  leaves 
no  penalty  unpaid,  no  command  unfulfilled,  no  reward 
unobtained.  Its  merit  is  infinite.  It  is  a  robe  so  pure, 
that  he,  who  wears  it,  stands  before  God  without  spot 
or  blemish  ;  so  splendid,  that  it  covers  all  his  shame  ; 
so  freely  offered,  that  all  the  naked  may  array  them- 
selves in  it,  and  all  rejoice  in  it  as  the  garment  of 
salvation. 

And  they,  who  will  reign  in  life,  have  arrayed  them- 
selves in  it.  They  receive  abundance  of  grace  and  of 
the  gift  of  righteousness.  They  were  once  as  destitute 
of  these  things  as  any  of  us,  and  as  careless  about  them ; 
but  they  did  not,  like  some  of  us,  continue  to  despise 
them.  Nor  were  they  content  with  merely  contem- 
plating and  admiring  them.  They  sought  them  by 
prayer,  and  by  faith  they  embraced  them.  They  heard 
of  the  grace  of  God,  and  they  opened  their  heart  to 
welcome  it.  They  heard  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ, 


Eeigniiig  in  Life.  ,}i)9 

and  they  put  forth  their  hand  to  lay  hold  on  it.  True, 
it  was  the  Lord,  who  opened  their  heart ;  true,  it  was 
Christ,  who  gave  them  strength  to  stretch  forth  the 
withered  arm  ;  but  this  does  not  alter  the  fact.  The 
heart  was  opened,  the  hand  was  stretched  forth,  grace 
and  righteousness  were  received,  and  they  have  made 
them  who  possess  them  heirs  of  life,  heirs  of  the 
kingdom  which  God  has  promised  to  them  that  love 
him. 

IV.  On  this  righteousness  is  grounded  the  hope  of 
the  Christian.  It  is  this,  which  ensures  to  him  the  pos- 
session of  that  reign  in  life,  to  which  he  has  been  taught 
to  aspire.  *'  If  by  one  man's  offence,"  says  the  apostle, 
^*  death  reigned  by  one,  much  more  they,  which  receive 
abundance  of  grace  and  of  the  gift  of  righteousness, 
shall  reign  in  life  by  one,  Jesus  Christ."  Here  he  seems 
to  assert,  that  the  efficacy  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ 
to  procure  life,  is  greater  than  that  of  the  offence  of 
Adam  to  cause  death  ;  that  the  salvation  of  the  Chris- 
tian's soul  is  even  more  certain  than  the  death  of  his 
body,  secured  to  him  by  more  numerous  and  solemn 
declarations,  and  involving  in  it  the  honour  of  more  of 
the  divine  perfections.  Justice  and  faithfulness  de- 
mand his  body  for  corruption,  but  mercy  unites  with 
faithfulness  and  justice  in  raising  his  soul  to  the  king- 
dom of  life. 

There  may  also  be  another  idea  included  in  the 
apostle's  meaning.  His  words  may  imply  that  the  righ- 
teousness of  Christ  is  more  than  sufficient  to  repair  the 
ruinous  consequences  of  Adam's  transgression  ;  that 
it  is  more  able  to  remove  those  evils,  than  sin  was  to 
introduce  them.  It  does  not  place  the  believing  sinner 
in  tlie  state,  in  which  he  would  have  been  had  Adam 
never  fallen :  it  does  more ;  it  places  him  in  a  more 


000  The  Christian 

secure,  and  far  more  exalted  state.  The  glory  of  the 
reign  in  life,  is  greater  than  the  terrors  of  the  reign  of 
death.  The  dignity  and  happiness  of  the  one  exceeds 
the  degradation  and  wretchedness  of  the  other.  In  other 
words,  we  may  gain  more  by  Christ  than  we  lost  by 
Adam.  The  one  made  an  honourable  temple  a  sad 
heap  of  ruins,  the  other  can  not  only  raise  up  the  tem- 
ple again  out  of  its  ruins,  but  can  make  the  latter  house 
far  more  glorious  than  the  former.  When  man  was 
first  created,  God  looked  on  him  and  pronounced  him 
rood  ;  but  when  his  beloved  Son  redeems  him,  he 
calls  him  his  inheritance  and  his  portion,  comes  and 
dwells  in  him,  and  loves  him  more  than  all  the  crea- 
tures of  his  hand. 

Such  is  the  account,  which  the  Bible  aifords  us  of 
the  fall  of  man  in  Adam,  and  his  recovery  in  Christ ; 
and  why  does  it  afford  us  this  account?  To  gratify 
our  curiosity,  or  to  furnish  us  with  a  subject  for  specu- 
lation ?  Alas,  brethren,  a  dying  sinner  has  no  time  to 
spare  for  the  indulgence  of  a  vain  curiosity  ;  a  soul  that 
is  perishing  has  no  leisure  to  speculate  and  dispute ! 
This  text  was  written  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation, 
to  save  our  souls  alive.  We  are  personally  and  deeply 
concerned  in  the  truths,  which  have  this  day  been  set 
before  us.  They  relate  not  to  some  distant  world,  nor 
to  some  distant  people  in  this.  Here  death  is  reigning. 
We  ourselves  are  his  destined  prey,  and  ere  long  shall 
have  fallen  beneath  his  arm.  Nay,  we  are  fallen  already. 
We  are  sinners,  and  sin  has  brought  an  awful  death  on 
our  souls,  as  well  as  sown  the  seeds  of  corruption  in 
our  bodies.  That  this  was  once  the  state  of  us  all,  is 
plain ;  and  it  is  equally  plain  that  it  may  be  the  state  of 
some,  of  many  of  us  at  the  present  hour.  A  remedy, 
it  is  true,  has  been  provided  for  us  in  Christ,  but  the 


Reigning  in  Life.  001 

mere  providing  of  a  remedy  does  not  alter  our  condi- 
tion.    A  sovereign  medicine  may  be  prepared  for  the 
sick   man  and  brought  to  him,  but  unless  he  receives 
and  drinks  it,   he  will  die,  as  certainly  as  though  no 
medicine  had  been  offered  him.     The  question  to  be 
asked  then  is  not,  whether  there   is  an  abundance  of 
grace  provided  for  sinners  in  the  gospel,  but  whether 
we  have  received  this  grace ;  not  whether  we  need  the 
gift  of  righteousness — on  this  point  there  can  be   no 
doubt — but  whether  by   faith   we  have   accepted   it. 
Have  we  given  it  that  cordial  and  thankful   reception, 
which  springs  from  a  sense  of  our  urgent  need  of  it, 
and  a  conviction  of  its  inestimable  worth?  What  value 
do  we  set  upon  it?  Had  we  rather  lose  all  we  possess, 
property  and  health,   friends  and  children,  husband  or 
wife,  than  lose  the  righteousness  and  grace  of  Christ? 
Let  us  make  the  matter  a  personal  matter,  brethren. 
For  want  of  this,  multitudes,  who  hear  the  gospel  and 
understand  it  and  almost  love  it,  perish  everlastingly. 
With  whatever  difficulty  or  pain  the  work  may  be  ac- 
companied, it  is  a  work,  which  must  be  done,  or  we 
shall  never  live  unto  God.  And  what  will  our  life  profit 
us  if  we  do  not  live  unto  God  ?  Any  existence,  which 
is  unaccompanied  with  his  favour,  and  uninfluenced  by 
his  Spirit,  is  a  curse,  a  long,  protracted,  never-ending 
curse ;  a  life,  which  the  Scriptures  uniformly  call  by 
that  awfully   mysterious  name  "  Death."     But  why 
should  we   inherit  this  curse?    Why  should  ue  thus 
die  ?  Why  should  death  for  ever  reign  over  us  ?    It  is 
true  that  we  cannot  quicken  our  own  souls ;   the  at- 
tempt would  be  absurd  and  arrogant,  as  well  as  fruit- 
less ;  but  the  blessing,  which  Christ  shed  his  blood  to 
procure,  he  is  willing  to  communicate,  and  he  urges  it 
on  our  acceptance  in  all  its  excellence  and  fulness.    In 

4G 


GCf2  The  Christian 

every  page  of  his  gospel  he  declares  his  ability  to  be- 
stow it,  and  proclaims  the  free  and  gracious  terms,  on 
which  a  world  of  sinners  may  obtain  it.  "  J,"  says  he, 
"  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  He  that  believeth  in 
me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ;  and  who- 
soever liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die."  And 
what  was  his  language  on  another  occasion  ?  *'  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son, 
that  wiiosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life."  And  what  is  the  language, 
which  he  is  now  addressing  to  us  from  heaven  ?  "  The 
Spirit  and  the  bride  say.  Come.  And  let  him  that 
heareth  say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst  come. 
And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of  life 
freely." 

As  for  you,  brethren,  whose  reign  in  life  is  actually 
begun,  what  tongue  can  proclaim  your  honours  and 
privileges  ?  Your  own  hearts  cannot  conceive  of  them 
aright,  and  were  an  angel  to  come  down  to  you  from 
heaven,  the  half  of  their  greatness  and  glory  would  still 
be  untold.  They  are  however  all  comprehended  in  this 
one  glorious  blessing,  a  union  with  Christ.  You  are  in 
him,  and  one  with  him  ;  members  of  that  body,  in 
which  the  fulness  of  the  godhead  dwells  ;  children  of 
that  parent,  who  is  the  image  of  the  living  God.  Your 
first  father  ruined  and  deserted  you,  but  had  he  even 
left  you  the  possessions,  which  in  his  best  days  he  en-, 
joyed,  they  would  have  been  poor  indeed  in  comparison 
with  the  unsearchable  riches,  of  which  your  new  parent, 
the  blessed  Jesus,  has  made  you  the  heirs.  Adam  might 
have  given  you  all  the  kingdoms  of  this  lower  world 
and  the  glory  of  them,  but  what  has  Christ  done  ?  He 
has  given  you  dominion  over  a  heavenly  world,  made 
you  partakers  of  his  own  greatness,  the  sharers  of  his 


; 


Reigning  in  Life.  '  4o3'  A  I 

own  power.    "  They  that  receive  abundance  oP  gtlK^e 
and  of  the  gift  of  righteousness  shall  re^n"  in  Ufe.'^    J 
You  see  then  your  calling,  brethren.     Walk  Vvf^hy^ 
of  it.    Cherish  the  life  that  vou  have  received.   Watoni  /    . 
against  every  thing  that  is  likely  to  impair  its  actii'ity 
and  vigour.  Live  near  to  Christ,  the  great  source  of  it. 
Be   instant  in  prayer  for  that  grace,  which  is  the  food 
of'it.   Act  up  to  the  high  privileges  you  possess.  Live 
and  reign.    Show  the  world  that  you  can  reign.  Force 
men  to  see  that  the  chains  of  sin  may  be  burst.     Con-   > 
strain  them  to  confess  that  there  is  a  reality  in  the  gos- 
pel, a  power  and  a  loftiness  in  the  despised  religion  of 
Christ,  a  dignity  which  the  world  never  saw  in  its  vota- 
ries, and  a  glory  for  which  the  proudest  earthly  monarch 
might  be  glad  to  exchange  his  throne. 


FINIS. 


) 


") 


^ 


